Raine (Gods of the Fifth Floor #2) - M.V. Ellis Page 0,80
it never was. Love, care, and affection, however, were as scarce as the rarest of gemstones.” Some people just shouldn’t have children. That was a fact.
“My mom was absent in other ways, even when she was present. She was a shell of a person, floating through life without touching the sides. Without connecting with people and events around her. She was there, but not there—a beautiful ghostly figure that haunted my childhood—never without a drink in one hand, and the pills du jour in the other.”
He sighed deeply again, and I resisted the urge to reach out for his hand a second time, though I desperately wanted to.
“With adult eyes I can see that she wasn’t happy. That she was probably hurting as much as us kids were, but growing up, I just wondered what the hell I had done so wrong to deserve her distance and my father’s disdain. The only time either of them paid us any attention was when it suited them to look like the perfect family.
“In reality, even when we were very little, they had us boarding at school here, while Dad lived in hotels around the world, and Mom floated around California like a rich hippie beach bum, fucking guys half her age and pretending she didn’t have kids. In the holidays we lived pretty much alone apart from the help. If not for Mai, I honestly don’t know where we would be. She was more of a mother to me than my actual mom ever was.”
“But I don’t understand. Why did they have kids if they didn’t want to actually have any part in bringing them up? It just doesn’t make any sense.”
“Believe me, it’s a question I’ve asked myself a thousand times, more even. After all these years, the only vaguely logical explanation I can come up with is that it was what was expected of them, and, like I said, we were status symbols that served to further their aims. Just like the cars, clothes, jewelry, boats, lavish homes and deluxe vacations.”
“Okay, but three kids? That’s status gained at the expense of a lot of other people’s happiness. Kids can’t be collected and dusted off when needed like watches, fur coats, flashy cars, or any of those other things you mentioned. If material possessions sit around unused and unloved, it doesn’t hurt anyone, but kids aren’t inanimate objects, they’re flesh and blood. They have needs, wants, and emotions.”
“You don’t have to tell me, you’re preaching to the choir over here. But that’s also the way people like them operate. Sadly, we weren’t the only kids we knew being brought up by remote control by folks who thought parenthood was something you could phone in. I don’t know if it’s genetic in us Wasps, or cultural, but we’re not known for being the most warm and nurturing. Though even by those standards, my parents took the cake.” Wasn’t that the truth.
“And much as I denied it at the time, and it pains me to admit it now, I had it better than Zach. I mean, looking back, the way they—especially my dad—treated him was beyond the benign negligence they approached Lily and me with. I used to think it was just because he was older, so they had higher expectations of him, but when I reflect on it through adult eyes I see that it wasn’t just that. My dad, especially, treated him with such disdain. I said before that we weren’t abused, but I can’t imagine being treated the way Zach was. It was emotional abuse for sure.” Shit.
“I later found out some of the reasons why this might have been the case, but that’s a story for another day.”
I made a mental note to ask him about it at some point when it was more appropriate.
“I guess you’re wondering what any of this has to do with my sister’s death, right? He was right. I was.
Chapter 31
Raine
* * *
She nodded slightly, and I steeled myself to get to the point. “Everything and nothing, I guess I have been telling you all this as background to the whole situation. In a nutshell, it’s the age-old stereotype. Poor little rich boy, all the material possessions someone on the outside might think could make a person happy, but really all he craved was the one thing money couldn’t buy, and he couldn’t have—his parents’ love.” God, I hated the cliché of it all, but not as much as I hated myself.