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Chapter 81

Maria I

My test was over. I came home right after I finished it since it was still really early. My professor wanted to get a headstart on his vacation, so my makeup began promptly at six in the morning. It was only made up of 15 questions, so I finished in 40 minutes and came home.

I had a lot of coffee to ensure that I would not fall asleep during the exam, so there was no way I was going back to sleep. I decided to organize my drawers. They always managed to get so messy and never really knew how it would happen.

One day Darla and I spent an evening making everything neat. By the end of the week, they were a disaster again.

I grabbed my college letters. Five rejections and three acceptance letters. Not terrible, not great. I was rejected from all the ivy leagues I applied to. My grades were not strong enough. Too much partying freshman year brought my average down. That was the year when my father died. I also partied a lot sophomore year. I had no excuse for it that year. I think that was the year I found out that I could sneak alcohol into clubs and that if I pushed my boobs together and batted my lashes, I could get any guy to do whatever I wanted.

Whatever, the schools I got into were adequate, so I couldn't complain.

My family, on the other hand, had a lot to say. Pretty typical of me.

It is hard growing up in the shadow of a younger sibling. Everyone expects it to be the other way around, but when Robert Bennet is your little brother, that is precisely what happens.

I used to feel so jealous of him; everything comes so easy for him. Accolades from my grandparents were given generously to him. I can count on one hand the times my grandparents noticed me. I use to hate him for this when we were kids.

I wished my whole life that I would get that attention, that my family would be proud of me. That is until recently. With everything that was happening these last few weeks, I was glad I was not my brother for once in my life. I was actually glad I was the disappointment. Ignored and pushed aside rather than put on a pedestal.

I knew I did not want to be a part of my family the day after my father passed away. Robbie doesn't know how everything happened. He was in the hospital for weeks. Everyone was acting like my dad's death was an inconvenience. They ran around like chickens with their heads cut off, trying to get everything back in order. It was disgusting.

My father was apparently like me. Messy. He had tax returns in places you wouldn't expect. His insurance papers and passwords were in scattered key-logs and journals. The day after my father passed away, I remember I woke up hoping it was all a dream.

I walked down the hall to Robbie's room and opened the door to see his room just as he had left it the night before. Pristine.

I crawled into his bed and lay there until I heard a group of people talking downstairs. I tiptoed downstairs through the servant's staircase and went around the other side of the house. I knew all the nooks and cranny of this house. I took the time to learn the manor one summer when Robbie was in soccer camp. My dad had found the original floor plans and gave me copies; I was fascinated. I never lost a game of 'hide and seek' ever again.

I followed the voices to my father's study. There is an entrance on the second floor of his study no one except me, Darla, and my father knew about. I silently slipped through the false wall and hid behind a bookcase. I saw men in suits everywhere, looking for papers and documents. His mother and my mom's father stood in the middle overseeing the ransacking of his office. My father's body hadn't even left the morgue yet. They weren't even pretending to mourn his death. I realized then that the business always came first, and our lives were a service to it. I cried for the first time since they came into my class to break the news that my brother and father were in an accident, and I don't think I stopped crying for several days.

The funeral was unlike any funeral I had ever been to. There were more people there than I had ever seen together in one place. My dad was loved. He was a kind man who always helped others and loved everyone he met unconditionally. He was warm and caring, and he made everyone feel special.

I remember my mom's mother, Abuela Rosario, the only grandparent that ever showed us affection, once told me that he was the one that wanted kids. My mom was always more of a free spirit, but he always wanted to be a father. It made me feel special that I was his favorite. He loved both of us a lot, but he and I were different. We had a bond. He always came into my room for another bedtime story after he put us to bed. We had daddy-daughter dates where he would secretly take me out of school to get ice cream.

I was his princess, his treasure. Despite his illness, he was supposed to walk me down the aisle. I think that's why I was so open to the idea of Liam. I wanted to get married while my dad was still around. I didn't care with who. I know my dad would have been alive for us to get married. Medicine was getting better, and we had money to afford the best. I knew he would hold on for me. He was the strongest person I knew.

I remember seeing him in the casket. It was dark brown and ugly, unnecessarily ornate. His mother probably picked it. I didn't want to walk up to it. I didn't want to remember him like that. My grandmother insisted, "It will look improper if you don't," she had said. 

I always hated her. I know hate is a strong word, and I really don't hate anyone else in my life, but she always was the worst. When we were kids, she would tell us that there was no way to know whether I was her son's daughter. That my mom probably slept around. 

She would pinch me hard if I fell asleep in church, and she forced me into etiquette classes when I was four. To top it off, she adored Robbie in her weird twisted way and made sure that I knew it.

When she would visit, she always found a way to be unnecessarily cruel, "She's too wild," She would say. "Boarding school would whip her into shape," she would suggest and then show me pamphlets of grey buildings on barren lots with depressed-looking children and severe-looking nuns.

When we reached the casket, something in me broke. My hands started shaking. Grandmother noticed it immediately.

"Hold it together, Maria," she whispered, squeezing my hand so tight it hurt. I took a deep breath, but then I saw my dad. He looked so peaceful. My hand shook as I reached out to hold his, and then I broke. His hand was so cold—nothing like the hands that held mine when he walked me to school as a kid. Or wiped my tears away when Dennis Williams broke my heart in 7th grade.

"Hey," a soft voice said. I looked up to see that Lana and Chris had joined us.

"I want my dad," I told them.

Chris's eyes widened, and Lana put her hand on my shoulder.

I shook my dad's hand as if to wake him up. "I want my dad," I said louder looking up at the priest overseeing the ceremony. He gave me a sad look, and I shook my head. I was upset. He needed to fix this. 

"Dad, daddy, dad," I said, shaking his hand.

"This girl," my grandmother said, losing her patience, and I felt Chris' hand around my waist trying to pull me away.

"No, stop," I said, pushing him off.

"Maria," Lana said softly. I looked at her, and she was crying; her blue eyes looked striking against her black mascara. The room was silent, I knew I was making a scene, but I couldn't stop.

I yelled for him again, and I sobbed and choked out a cry. My grandmother grabbed my wrist, her nails digging into the soft skin, and dragged me into another room. Lana and Chris ran behind us.

"Get it together," She said calmly through gritted teeth.

"I want my dad," I said, crying, and she smacked me across the face and grabbed my chin tightly.

"Enough," she said sharply. My eyes widened, and she got really close. I realized that her eyes were like mine, and I hated it.

"Unfortunately, my son, in a moment of madness, left the entire estate to you. You need to stop this nonsense immediately. You are the face of this company now. Clean yourself up, and then you're going to give a speech apologizing for your behavior," She spat. She smelled like roses and Chanel and I wanted to gag. 

"No."

"Yes, you will. There are people there who have invested in our company and are nervous that you'll take over. They cannot lose faith in us. You have 10 minutes, Maria." She said and walked out of the room.

I looked at Lana and Chris in a daze. Lana opened her mouth to say something and then didn't. Chris pulled me into a hug, squeezing me tight, and I felt myself break again, crying into his neck. Lana joined the hug and stroked my hair. We stood there for what seemed like hours but were actually minutes, and then I straightened up and wiped my face.

Lana helped put my makeup back on and fix my hair.

"They're probably all wondering where I am and thinking I'm such a fuck up," I whispered once we sat in the powder room.

"No one is thinking that. It's your dad's funeral." She said, running her fingers through my bangs to fix them. "I'm going to go stall for you," she said and kissed my head.

I looked at myself in the mirror. My nose was still red, and my eyes looked like they needed sleep.

I sighed and walked out.

Chris was waiting outside the powder room.

"You didn't have to wait," I said, looking at him. He had grown in the past few years. He and Robbie were always competing to see who was taller. Robbie beat him, but Chris was still inches taller than most boys in his grade.

"Lana told me I should, are you okay?" he asked. His blue eyes looked soft, and he gave me a tight smile.

"Yeah, I guess. Do I look okay?"

"You always look beautiful, Maria," he said shyly and put his arm around me, giving me a small hug. He was skinny and lanky, all elbows and knees. His curly hair was combed to the side. His mother probably made him fix it that way. I ran my fingers through it to mess it up. I liked it better messy, the way he usually had it. He blushed and rubbed his neck.

I knew he had a crush on me. It was obvious since he was in the fifth grade and I started middle school. It was cute, in a little kid sort of way. 

I elbowed him in the ribs, "liar."

"Do you want me to go with you?" he asked, looking at his shoes.

"No, I'm fine," I said, giving him a smile. Everything after that was a blur. I did the speech; my grandmother always got her way. Then before I knew it, everyone left—everyone except me, my mom, and Darla. Since the day of the accident, my mother had not spoken, and Darla was busy making sure she ate and probably keeping an eye that she didn't throw herself off the roof.

So I was alone. At least until Robbie came back.

The doctors said that after the accident Robbie had a concussion and that his brain was swollen but that he would be fine once the swelling went down. He was put in a medically induced coma to ensure that there would be no brain damage.

I have never told anyone, and I never will, but I had a moment where I hoped this would change things. That Robbie would need me for once instead of the other way around. That he wouldn't be the golden child anymore.

It was fleeting, but it was there, and I hated myself for it. I was so selfish.

Thankfully, he was fine once he woke; a few small scars but otherwise nothing permanent. He didn't say much on the way home, although that wasn't out of the ordinary. We quietly ate dinner, and then he kissed my mother and me goodnight before the house staff came and help put him to bed. I was alone again. That is until that night.

He woke me up at two in the morning. It was yells and screams. I ran into his room, and he sat up in the bed and grabbed my hand in his sweaty one, "Dad?" he asked.

He looked at me, and I could tell even in the darkroom that his eyes were wide, and when I shook my head, I saw them close, and he let go of my hand and covered his face, and I heard my brother cry for the first time since we were little kids.

I crawled into bed with him and put my arms around him.

I remember he wiped his face with his shirt and grabbed my hand again, "I thought it was a dream," he said.

"No."

"Did they catch who did it?"

"No."

"Maria, I saw who did it. I saw them look into our car." He said, looking at me with that intense look he had.

"What did they look like?" I said, rubbing his arm. He had a cast from his elbow down.

"I don't remember," He said, shaking his head confused. "Like sometimes it's clear and other times it's like I can't think straight, but if I saw the guy, I would know," Robbie said, rubbing his face. The doctor said this would happen. That sometimes his mind would get hazy and that he might remember things that weren't actually there. That it would take a few months to sort itself out.

"Well, maybe they'll catch suspects, and you can point him out," I said, trying to soothe him even though I knew it wasn't true. It was a hit and run, and even after extensive investigation these past weeks, they had nothing. I could hear the police and detectives talking with my grandmother on the phone. I would pretend like I wasn't listening, but I was. It was always a dead end.

We spent the next few weeks in his room, watching movies and ordering pizza, and Lana and Chris and Jesse would come over, but at the end of the day, it was always him and me. Because really, that's all we had. I lost my mom and Dad that day. I lost Robbie a few weeks later.

After that summer, they wanted to clean out the house. My mother, in a fugue state, started wanting to do renovations.

She didn't even look at us, but suddenly she was on the phone for hours with contractors and designers.

Darla said it was probably good she was doing this. This was her way of coping and that she would be there for us when she was strong again.

At one point, she started throwing everything that belonged to my father away.

We woke up one day, and she was yelling at the staff, "Just get rid of it all!"

Robbie and I ran to grab what we could. A lot of it had been axed and thrown in a fireplace.

"The study," He had said, running to our parent's room and looking through drawers for the key.

"I'll hold on to it," he said. It was an old skeleton key and impossible to make a copy of.

That was fine. I had my secret entrance. Later on, we found another, and Robbie gave it to me, but I never used it.

That night, I had brought a board game for us to play to distract ourselves from the stressful day. Robbie asked if he could have "alone time" as he got ready for bed. We barely hung out after that. I partied even more with Lana, and soon the summer was over.

Robbie started high school with me and things really changed. To begin with, he was already tall and had grown three inches over that summer, and every single girl in the 9th and 10th grade noticed. Even some juniors paid attention.

It was annoying. I had older girls whom I had never spoken to before ask me if they could hang out. I was excited at the beginning. They were popular and pretty, and I wanted to head committees like them in the future. He was supposed to be with Abigail, but the girls would come over to see me and then disappear into Robbie's room.

I realized then I had lost my family and that things were probably never going back to how they were. Or so I thought.