Chapter 8: Confrontation

Alison Doyle got out of her car and opened the rear door. She grabbed the dry cleaning and threw it over her arm and took it inside the house. The she went back and brought in the groceries. The groceries went into the refrigerator or pantry, and then the dry cleaning was sorted into hers and Cullie’s. Alison hadn’t seen his car in the driveway so he must still be at Albany State, or maybe out on a date. She debated texting him to let him know it was downstairs but decided to carry it upstairs.

That proved a pain in the tail. After carrying it up the inside stairs off the kitchen she discovered he had latched the door from the inside. That meant she had to carry it back down the stairs and take her keys when she went outside and up his exterior stairs. She let herself in and hung the dry cleaning on a doorknob.

Alison looked around at the apartment. Compared to most teenagers, Cullie kept his apartment clean. Part of that, she was sure, was because he brought girls home. Cullie was smart enough to know that a sloppy apartment was not conducive to getting in their panties. It wasn’t perfect but it wasn’t cluttered.

In the corner was the desk he used for his schoolwork. She went over and looked at a stack of books and some papers that looked like homework. On the top was a small calendar book open to a page showing the month. Curious, Alison looked at the calendar and tried to figure out the cryptic notes.

The calendar was a simple monthly block calendar, and there seemed to be three notations prominent in the calendar, J1, J2, and A. Sometimes the notation was simple, like the J1 listed on Tuesday’s block. Other times it included the @ symbol she recognized from email. That was the case that day, a Friday, which was marked as @J2. She glanced through a few previous pages of the calendar and noticed it went back several months, all with the same three markings. She flipped back to the current month and looked it over. Suddenly it hit her! Tuesday, Cullie had been home, but she remembered that somebody had been up here in the apartment with him. She glanced at a few more blocks and noticed that on several other dates she remembered that Cullie had been entertaining a guest.

J1, J2, and A must be shorthand for three different girls! Cullie was trying to balance three women at the same time? Oh, that was never going to work out, she thought to herself. His father had once told her that he had tried that back in high school, dating two girls at the same time, one from his high school and the other from the next school over. He had laughingly admitted it hadn’t lasted long before they found out about each other; he had ended up with a black eye from one and a broken nose from the other.

The she started looking at some of the other dates. The @ symbol seemed to be concentrated on weekends, Fridays or Saturdays, or sometimes both. She recognized the symbol as being pronounced ‘at’. Did that mean @J2 meant her son was at J2’s place for the weekend? So why was the @ symbol only associated with the girls designated as J1 and J2, but never A? Maybe A lived at home with her parents; that would probably keep a boy from staying the weekend. Still, something didn’t seem right. Two weekends ago there was a notation on Friday, J1@J2. He was meeting J1 at J2’s place? That sounded awfully complicated.

Alison looked over a couple of months and marveled at her son’s organization. And stamina! He seemed to be getting laid three to four times a week. That was better than most teenagers, or even most married couples. Then she stopped cold. Last Friday had been a bridge club night at Alison’s, only Amanda had called and said she was sick. Alison, June, and Janet had spent the night playing gin rummy and gossiping. There was a notation that Friday of ‘A@Marriott’. Cullie hadn’t been home, either. She sat upright and stared at the wall. Was Cullie at the Marriott with his Aunt Amanda? She began searching through the calendar to see if there was anything in the calendar that he could trace to June or Janet. Could they be J1 or J2?

Nothing really stuck out, but Alison thought of a way to check on Amanda. She pulled out her phone and made photos of the various pages in the calendar. Then she googled ‘albany ny marriott’ and called the number on the website.

A pleasant female voice answered, “Albany Marriott. How can I help you?”

Alison answered, “Hi. My name is Amanda Winslow and I stayed at the hotel last Friday night and I think I left my sunglasses. They’re pretty expensive and I was wondering if anybody found them in the room.”

“Let me check. You said last Friday? Do you remember which room?”

“No, I’m sorry, I don’t,” Alison replied.

“That’s all right. I can check.” There was a wait of a few seconds and then the woman said, “Yes, here you are. Let me check.”

“Thank you.”

There was a pause and some recorded music, and the woman came back on the line. “Sorry, Mrs. Winslow. Nothing was noted by the cleaning crew or turned in by any guests.”

“It was a long shot. Thank you.”

Alison ended the call and sat there. There was all the proof she needed. She could check for any links between her son and June or Janet, but there was no doubt that he was fucking his Aunt Amanda. What the hell was she supposed to do? She left the apartment and went back down to her house. Once there she downloaded the photos of the calendar and printed them out. She needed to think.

Alison called Amanda. “Amanda, you need to come over here tonight.”

“Alison, what’s up?”

“I want you at the house, tonight.”

“Well, that’s going to be a problem. I can’t leave the boys on their own,” Amanda replied.

“I don’t care!” Alison told her angrily. “I want you here at eight!”

“What is going on? What’s the problem?”

“Eight! Or else!” Alison slammed the phone down, leaving Amanda worried about her sister.

Amanda grabbed her phone and started scrolling through her contacts, looking for a babysitter who would work midweek. Before she even had a chance to make a call, her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and saw it was June. “Hi.”

“Did Alison call you?”

“Yes! What’s up? She called and demanded I come over tonight. Or else! Her words, not mine.”

“Eight o’clock, right?”

Amanda said, “Yes.”

“She called me and Janet, too. I just heard from her. I think she’s figured out about Cullie.”

“Oh shit!” Amanda looked around guiltily, to see if Kenny and Jack were in earshot. “You think?”

“I think so. Janet said she sounded furious, and she wasn’t happy talking to me,” June said.

“Yeah, same here, and when I told her I would have to find a babysitter, she said, or else.”

“Well, this can’t be good. Did you want to get together ahead of time with me and Janet?”

“And do what? No, besides, I don’t have the time if I need to find a babysitter. This is not a conversation where I can turn the boys loose and ask Cullie to keep an eye on them.”

“Jesus! No!”

Amanda said, “Listen, I have to make some calls. See you at eight.”

“Later.”

Amanda ended the call and went back to trying to find a babysitter. The first two calls were to girls in the neighborhood who declined, because they weren’t allowed to babysit on a school night. Two others didn’t answer her calls. She eventually got one of her neighbors, Dolly Houser, to come over for a few hours, promising to be home by eleven, no matter what. She fed the boys and waited for Dolly to arrive. When she got there, Amanda grabbed her purse and coat, kissed her sons, and took off.

Amanda was the second of the three women to arrive, pulling into the driveway and finding Janet already there, but sitting in her car. Amanda got out and walked towards Janet, also climbing out of her car. “You talked to June?” she asked quietly.

Janet nodded. “She called June first. June called me right after I hung up with Alison. Alison hadn’t said anything specific to me, other than a demand to come over. June, however, said that Alison muttered something about ‘corruption’, whatever that meant. It doesn’t sound good, though.”

Amanda nodded, but they stopped talking when a third car pulled into the driveway; it was June. June parked and got out, coming over to them. “With Alison calling us over, I guess we can imagine the topic of the conversation.” They all glanced up at the second floor of the Cape Cod house. The lights were on, indicating Cullie was home.

Amanda sighed, “It was nice knowing you all.”

“It’s not going to get any better waiting out here in the cold. We might as well face the music together,” said June.

“Wait!” said Janet, putting a hand on June’s arm. The others looked at her. June asked, “Just one question - Are you sorry we did this? I mean, with Cullie? Are you sorry?”

June smiled for the first time since Alison called her. “No, no I’m not. You?”

“Not even a little.”

They both turned towards Amanda, who was also smiling. “Only that he’s my nephew. That part I’m not happy about. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have missed this for the world!”

“Then let’s go inside and hold our heads high!” finished June.

The three hugged and Amanda laughingly said, “All for one and one for all!” They turned and went up to the front door.

Alison was waiting for them at the front door, having seen their headlights in the driveway. She opened the door before they even reached it. She did not have a smile on her face. “Come in,” she said in an ordering tone of voice.

“Good evening, Alison,” said Amanda.

“Is it? Sit!” she commanded.

The three women looked at each other and sat down, two on the couch and one in a matching armchair. Alison, however, did not sit down. She went to the intercom in the hall between the living room and the kitchen. “Cullie, come down here, please.”

A few seconds later Cullie’s voice came back, “Can it wait? I’m studying for a test.”

“CULLUM BRIAN DOYLE, COME DOWN HERE NOW!”

Cullie stared at his end of the intercom for a moment. Like every child, he knew that the use of all three names meant he was in trouble, though he wasn’t sure why. He looked out the window in the front dormer and saw June’s, Janet’s, and Amanda’s cars in the driveway. Since there wasn’t a bridge game that night, all he could think was, ‘Oh shit!’ He unbolted the stairwell and went down the stairs and found his lovers sitting and his mother looking furious. “Hello, mother.”

“Don’t you dare ‘hello mother’ me! You want to explain what you and these three ... three ... WHORES are doing?” She turned to the three women and said, “Were you aware your lover has given you code names? I know A stands for my slut sister, but which of you is J1 and which is J2? Is that alphabetic? First in his bed and second in his bed? Or is it quality?” She waved the pages she had printed out. “He has to have a schedule?”