Tag: Jackson Collins

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Kingsport #50

“All of Kingsport, Manhattan, London, Paris, and Hong Kong are a twitter with the news of today’s wedding of Montgomery scion, William Harrison Montgomery to Dr. Connor Lorenzo Windsor, both of Kingsport, Connecticut. The wedding ceremony will take place at a private chapel on the Montgomery Estate for close family and invited guests before the reception which is rumored to be hosted in the grand ballroom on the estate for three hundred and fifty people,” explained the Kingsport Press in breathless detail. “William Montgomery, the youngest child of Charles Montgomery, IV and Alison Farrell Montgomery, is the owner of the Kingsport Polo Club as well as the captain for the King’s Polo team. Dr. Connor Windsor, the eldest child of Alistair and Raquel Windsor, is a surgeon at Fairfield County Hospital…”

Jill Stanhope Montgomery tossed the newspaper aside as she took a deep, cleansing breath. Although she tried to block out the events of the other from her mind, she couldn’t stop thinking about her moment of passion with Connor. Her body ached for him. He still knew everything that made her quiver, cry, moan, and melt. Warren hadn’t had sex with her in three months. To have a man inside of her…on top of her…and ravaging her made Jill want nothing more than to run off with the man who was due to marry her brother-in-law at eleven o’clock this morning.

“Are you ready?” Warren Montgomery walked into his wife’s dressing room as he fastened his nineteenth century cuff links.

“DeShawn will be here to do my hair in a few minutes. We won’t be late.”

Warren eyed Jill carefully. “We can’t be late for my brother’s wedding,” stressed Warren. “I’m his best man.”

Jill fastened an emerald and sapphire bracelet around her wrist. “We’ll be early,” smiled Jill, lightly.

“We should’ve stayed at the estate last night,” muttered Warren. “With all of the out of town guests coming in today, there may be traffic.”

“We’ll be fine,” sighed Jill. “Warren, I want to apologize.”

“For what?”

“Everything. I know I haven’t been myself recently and I am sorry. I should have put my personal beliefs and feelings aside when it came to Will’s wedding.”

Touched by his wife’s sudden about face, Warren kissed her forehead. “That means a lot. Thank you, Jill.”

Just then, the doorbell rang as Jill’s phone bleated to life. “That’s DeShawn. Showtime,” tittered Jill.

            “I don’t think we should be talking right now,” Nicholas said into his cell phone as he waited to climb into an idling black town car. “What we did the other night…”
“We didn’t do anything wrong. It was just a kiss,” whispered Will.

“You’re getting married today. I knew it was a bad idea letting myself get sucked into your orbit again,” snapped Nicholas.

“Please don’t be mad at me, Nicholas. I… I was in a weak state and I should’ve known better,” stammered Will. “I just… Help me make sense of what to do, Nicholas.”

“I can’t, Monty. You’re on your own.”

“Nicholas…”

“Monty, I can’t be your talk-to. If you want to marry Connor, marry him. If you don’t, call it off. Either way, the decision is yours. I can’t… No, I won’t be your consolation prize or back-up plan. Whatever you do next, you have to do it on your own.”

The chapel on the Montgomery Estate was last used on the occasion of Warren’s wedding to Jill. Outside of that, the chapel sat dormant except of weekly cleanings and the off times when the Montgomery family would use it to repent for sins of the past, present, and future. Sheila Davenport, Dylan Davenport, Lisa Davenport Collins, Jackson Collins, Oliver Collins, Elijah Davenport, Faren Davenport, and Nicholas Davenport made

their way into the chapel past the assembled press dressed in their finest wedding couture. Eli led Faren towards the holding area where she joined her cousins, Hannah and Kate Montgomery, the other flower girls in the wedding party.

“How tastefully done,” Sheila said to Dylan, who walked by her side.

“I suppose,” muttered Dylan. “I’m surprised Charles allowed the press to attend.”

Sheila pursed her lips. “Raquel Windsor begged for press coverage. People like Raquel think the Montgomerys are a royal family.”

“Aren’t they?” mused Dylan.

“Royalty doesn’t have this much money,” tutted Sheila.

“I didn’t think you’d come to your ex-boyfriend’s wedding,” Lisa whispered to Nicholas as they made their way to their pew.

Nicholas lowered his eyes before saying, “If I didn’t come, people would talk. I’m happy for them.”

Lisa gave Nicholas a curious stare. “All right. If that’s the story you want to tell…”

“Drop it,” Nicholas ordered his sister. “Let’s enjoy the wedding.”

In a small sun drenched waiting room, Will waited calmly as Warren finished tying his bow tie. “Is everyone here?” worried Will.

“Yes,” said Warren, calmly. “Uncle Walton and his brood just showed up.”

“How do you know for sure?”

“Jill texted me. Everything is going to be fine, Billy.”

Will forced a smile onto his face. Despite everything that had happened, he could feel the clouds lift. He was getting married today to the man he loved! Will couldn’t think of anything more wonderful. A second later, the clock stuck eleven. Without a word, Will drew a deep breath before leaving the room and walking towards the altar.

It had been agreed that Will would begin the processional with Alison and Charles followed by Connor and his parents. After what seemed like years of stress and worry, Will cast a confidant eye over the his wedding guests. They were dressed in their finest morning clothes just for the occasion. Even his sister, India, and his sister-in-law, Jill, looked good. Will smiled confidently at Nicholas Davenport because he knew his future was with Connor. As Will took his place at the altar with Warren by his side, they faced up the aisle to await Connor’s entrance. The music swelled and…

Nothing.

Silence.

Three seconds (which felt like six years) ticked by.

More silence.

Someone coughed.

Silence.

People looked at each other with mounting concern coupled with polite society smiles.

More people coughed.

Will turned to Warren with pensive dread in his eyes.

Alison grabbed Charles’ hand with a heavy squeeze. Their eyes locked ever so briefly before they both cast them to the stone floor.

Suddenly, the door to the chapel opened.

Everyone turned around with eager anticipation.

Alistair Windsor stepped into the chapel with a worn look on his face. “We… He’s gone. We don’t know where he is. Will…I’m so sorry.”

Will let out a scream so deafening, it sounded primal. His blood ran cold before he collapsed into Warren’s arms in front of the entire congregation. A second later, everything went black.

 

In our next installment, questions abound in Kingsport…

 

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Kingsport #32

“How’s she doing?” asked Sheila Davenport as she sat in the garden of her daughter, Lisa’s mansion. She took a small sip of water before adding, “She won’t answer my calls, Jackson.”

Jackson Collins wasn’t a man to show his cards without knowing what the other party was willing to sacrifice in return for his knowledge. While he liked Sheila, he knew that her constant meddling was a continued source of friction between Sheila and her children. “Lisa just came out of surgery and she’s doing fine. The doctor wants to keep her in the hospital overnight. She should be home tomorrow.”

Sheila nodded silently. “I suppose that is best. It pains me that my daughter has had to suffer like this so often.”

“We’ve handled it together,” replied Jackson, quietly.

“Everything?” Sheila bit the inside of her cheek in order to stop herself from bringing up the one issue she knew was off limits. However, Sheila felt in her heart that it was necessary for her to ensure Lisa didn’t act in a manner which could jeopardize her future happiness. “Jackson, do you know why Lisa is in the hospital?”

Jackson folded his arms as he glared at his mother-in-law. “I do,” he shot back.

“No, the real reason.”

“My wife is recovering from an ectopic pregnancy…”

“She also had her tubes tied,” blurted out Sheila. “I tried to talk her out of it…”

“I can’t believe you!” spat Jackson.

“Me?” Sheila said with marked offense. “I haven’t done a thing wrong!”

“Lisa told me that she wanted to have her tubes tied yesterday. I fully supported her decision then and now. It wasn’t your place to insert yourself in the middle of our marriage, Sheila!”

“I am concerned! Lisa is very smart, very clever, but she clearly isn’t thinking rationally or she wouldn’t have had her tubes tied! She should have consulted you before making that decision,” huffed Sheila.

“It’s her decision to make; not mine.”

“I thought you wanted more children!”

“I do…I did. I’ve seen Lisa suffer from through miscarriage after miscarriage and, well, it’s not fair on her. It’s taxing. It’s emotionally draining. You haven’t seen how much she suffers when no one is looking. I don’t want her to go through that again, Sheila.”

“If you don’t try…”

“Look, I’m done. You had no right to betray Lisa’s trust by telling me something she told you in confidence. I’m appalled, Sheila.”

“I… I did what I thought was the right thing to do!”

“When are you going to understand that you can’t run around controlling your children! They’re in their thirties and forties! Leave them alone.”

“I do not control them,” huffed Sheila. “Jackson, I know you’re suffering, but it doesn’t give you the right to take it out on me.”

“You do control them. You use your money and influence to keep them in line. Look at the way you treat Nick. He’s thirty-five and yet you still have control over his trust fund!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” sniffed Sheila. “Nicholas isn’t responsible.”

“Fine. Excuse away your behavior. I think it would be best if you gave Lisa some breathing room for a few weeks.”

“Weeks! Jackson, she’s my daughter!”

“She’s my wife! She deserves some time away from you.”

“You can’t make decisions like that without…”

“I can and I will,” Jackson snapped. “It’s time for you to go, Sheila. Please show yourself out.”

Barbara Wilkes sat in front of the window unit air conditioner in her apartment in a vain attempt to stay cool. She would have gone to the beach today, but she’d worked the morning shift at the Montgomery Estate and been sent home because Mrs. Montgomery didn’t need any further assistance for the day. It was a forty-minute car ride to the beach followed by an even longer one back to her apartment. Barbara knew it wasn’t worth it, so she did her best to beat the summer heat.

As she thought about the next step in her plan, Barbara smiled at the fact that she’d been able to get upstairs through her talent. The next thing she needed to do was ingratiate herself with the family. She knew Mrs. Montgomery liked her well enough, but Barbara had a bigger prize in sight. From what Barbara heard from the staff and people around town was that Charles Montgomery, IV had a thing for young women who could keep their mouths shut. Barbara was that woman. However, she hadn’t been able to meet him, let alone catch his eye. Moreover, that hideous uniform she had to wear every day hid her body…her supple curves…her heaving breasts. He was the reason she’d come to Kingsport. He was the reason she had demeaned herself by being a maid. He was the reason she was determined to play the long game, but not too long. Time wasn’t on her side. There would always been a young woman on Charles’ arm even though Barbara would soon age out of that demographic. She wracked her brain trying to think of a way into his bed and yet she hadn’t cracked the code.

A repeated knock at the door forced her out of her reverie. She groaned, put on a tee shirt, and walked to the door. Barbara knew her rent was on time, she never had guests, and she even brought home cookies for the other tenants in the building. Who on earth would be pounding on her door like this?

The instant she pulled open the door, she had her answer.

Barbara let out a scream, but the sound never escaped her mouth. Had she not been holding onto the door, she would have fallen to the ground in a heap of fear. She’d run from her past, but somehow, somewhere, it had followed her to Kingsport. Barbara tried to slam the door shut, but it was useless. He was already in her apartment.

“Get out,” she cried in a broken voice. “Leave…”

“That’s no way to talk to your husband,” replied Kenny Wilkes.

In our next installment, Barbara tries to stay calm…

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Kingsport #30

Alison Farrell Montgomery laid by the outdoor pool at the Montgomery Estate as the humidity clung to every inch of her toned body. She pulled her sunglasses tight against her face as a shadow cast over her. “Move.”

“You do know how to speak,” snapped India. She folded her arms while her mother sighed and rolled over to her side. “Mother, I’m speaking to you!”

“I’m trying to have a few moments of peace and quiet before I meet my friends for dinner.”

“You’ll look like an old weather-beaten suitcase,” clucked India, ruefully. “You haven’t spoken two words to me since you arrived from Paris.”

Alison sat up, removed her sunglasses, and gave India a terse stare. “India, I don’t want to talk to you. In fact, I think it would be better if you stayed out of my way.” With that, Alison grabbed her robe, sunhat, and started for the main house.

“Why?” called India as she ran towards Alison. “Mother, please! You can’t ignore me! I’m your daughter!”

“India, will you please leave me alone?!? My god! I can’t have a moments peace without you demanding every spare second of my time!”

“But you always have time for Billy! It makes me sick!”

“I have time for Billy,” began Alison, “because he didn’t have an affair with my boyfriend and then accuse him of trying to force himself on her!”

India stood in absolute silence, like the world had stopped without any intention of every resuming its usual hum of the last four billion years. “That’s not true,” insisted India. “I never even looked at Count Andre du Renault!”

“You used to be a much better liar,” spat Alison. “I know all about it. Andre told me what you did to him!”

“What I did to him?!? Mother, I didn’t do anything to Andre. He’s lying! He always tried to come on to me, but I stopped him. He would tell me how he wanted someone more nubile…more experienced… Mother, you have to believe me that I never tried to have sex with him!” exclaimed India.

Alison grabbed India by the arm. “Keep your voice down. You sound like a common guttersnipe.” She dragged India into the pool house and slammed the door. “Now you listen to me, India, I am not your father. I see you exactly for who you are. I have since you were a child. I’ve seen the essence of who you really are and always have been. You’re a mean, spiteful, vindictive woman with no regard for anyone around you. It’s anathema to who you really are.”

India’s eyes narrowed in horrified anger. “You have no proof…”

“Very few people know of the lengths you went to in order to get Connor for yourself. The lies you told… The people you hurt…” Alison folded her arms with fury in her eyes. “India, what Count Andre told me you did to him tracks entirely with what you did to Connor. It was like listening to an old record.” She looked India once over. “You disgust me.”

India stood in absolute silence before saying, “You’re just jealous. He wanted me, Mother. That’s not my fault.”

“You accused him of drugging you and trying to sleep with you, India! Have you any idea how damaging that could be to his life if it ever got out?!?”

“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” simpered India. “He never told me to stop.”

Alison let out an exasperated cry. “You’ll never learn, will you, India?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“You have to stop this! What you did to Connor and Andre…”

“They both wanted me!! It’s not my fault that Connor was desperate to have me, just like Andre. Men find me sexual. They want to be with me, Mother! Connor doesn’t love Billy and Andre certainly didn’t love you!”

Alison’s hand stung from the slap she’d laid across India’s face. “You have no concept of the meaning of love!”

India rubbed her throbbing cheek. It had been years since anyone had hit her, but she wasn’t going to cry or give her mother the satisfaction of seeing her in pain. “If I don’t have a concept of love, it’s because you ignored me during my childhood while you were off being a slut in Europe. You made me this way, Mother. I’m not to blame for my behavior; you are.”

Lisa Davenport Collins sat in the examination room when Dr. Shearer entered the room followed by her husband, Jackson Collins. For Lisa, the last few days had been a special kind of hell. After four miscarriages in the last eight years, Lisa had given up all hope of every having another child and, now that she’d made peace with her present, the future was turning out to be an unkind little stranger. Jackson took his wife’s hand as Lisa said, “What is the result, Dr. Shearer?”

“Mrs. Collins, you are pregnant…”

“Wow,” muttered Jackson. “It happened, Lisa.”

Lisa watched Dr. Shearer’s face. It was a stony mask which told Lisa all she needed to know. “It’s not good is it,” she asked the doctor.

“Lisa, you’re pregnant! This is a wonderful thing,” interjected Jackson.

“Dr. Shearer,” began Lisa, “please tell me what’s wrong.”

Dr. Olivia Shearer quietly said, “Our transvaginal ultrasound has detected that you are having an ectopic pregnancy. That means…”

“I know what it means,” Lisa said, ruefully.

“Due to your age…” began Dr. Shearer, “there are…”

“I don’t want it.” Lisa felt like the world was beginning to lose its color. She felt numb. She felt cold. She felt dead. “Do whatever you have to do to get rid of it.”

Jackson turned to his wife with grief written all over his face. “We need to discuss this, Lisa. Dr. Shearer, it’s possible this could be a viable pregnancy, isn’t it?”

“Due to Mrs. Collins age and other factors, it may not be as viable as we would hope it to be. I’ll give you two time to talk this through…”

“I don’t need time,” said Lisa, gravely. “Tell me when I can come back for the surgery. I will find time in my schedule.”

Jackson waited for Dr. Shearer to go before saying, “Lisa, you can’t just end your pregnancy! We should be able to talk this through.”

Lisa turned her face away from Jackson. She knew he was hurting because she was hurting on a level she never knew existed. The mere fact that she had become pregnant was a miracle, but God was playing a horrific joke on her. She and the doctor knew her odds of carrying this pregnancy to term were unlikely. The thought of growing attached to…and loving…a baby which may not survive crushed every bit of Lisa’s soul. “I’ve made up my mind, Jackson. I can’t go through with it. I won’t…”

In our next installment, Lisa rejects Sheila’s help…

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Kingsport #29

“Jackson?” Lisa Davenport Collins stepped into the library of her home with a look of concern on her face. “I need to talk to you.”

Jackson Collins looked up from the newspaper with a grave concern. It was unlike to his wife to look so drawn and careworn; this was a woman who took life by the throat and never let go. He patted the seat next to him on the sofa. “Lisa, what’s the matter?”

She sat next to him and let her head fall on his shoulder. “I haven’t had my period yet…”

Jackson felt like the world was going to lurch to a stop. “Are you pregnant?”

Lisa shrugged as a look of worry crossed her face. “I don’t know… I’ve purchased six pregnancy tests and… I…just can’t bring myself to take them.” She closed her eyes as if to block out a horrific memory. “I can’t go through this again, Jackson.”

“I know, my baby.” He grasped her trembling body with all of his might. Although they had separate lives when they traveled, they were still in love, and were still very much devoted to one another. “Maybe this time will be different,” offered Jackson.

“It always ends the same way. Four miscarriages in the last eight years. We weren’t even trying this time… I think that’s why I’m terrified.” Lisa could feel the tears fall from her eyes. “I don’t want to know either way,” she began to sob. “I just…”

Jackson took his wife in his strong arms for what seemed to be a lifetime. “We have Oliver. He’s more than enough,” offered Jackson, quietly.

“I know,” whispered Lisa. “I know.” She dried her eyes with a linen handkerchief. “I should take the test, so we know what to do.”

“Do you… If you are pregnant, do you want to keep it?”

Lisa lowered her head as if in shame. “I don’t know.” It was the truth and the only answer she could muster. “I’ve dreamed about having more children, but now…I’ve become accustomed to being happy with you and Oliver, especially after so many disappointments…”

“I understand,” he told his Lisa.

“And with our careers…our lifestyle… I don’t know if it’s conducive for another child…”

“Oliver will be away at college before we know it. Starting over is a big ask right now.”

Lisa nodded knowingly. “I’m going to call Dr. Shearer for an appointment. I want to know exactly what we’re dealing with and if it’s even viable for me to carry this pregnancy to term…if I am pregnant. Don’t worry about being in town, Jackson. I’ll ask my mother to come with me to the appointment.”

“Don’t be silly, Lisa. I’m coming with you. No matter what happens, you’re not going through this alone.”

“Papa. I didn’t expect to see you here.” Jill Stanhope Montgomery opened the door to the luxurious summer cottage on the coast of Maine she and Warren had rented for the last ten years. She wanted to buy it, but Warren thought it was an extravagance which didn’t make financial sense to him.

Charles Montgomery, IV stepped into the foyer of the cottage, barked his martini order at no one in particular, and made his way to the covered terrace. He sat down in a chair facing the ocean without saying a word to Jill until a member of her staff placed his martini beside him. “I understand,” he said after a small sip, “that you have an issue concerning Hannah and Kate being flower girls in Billy and Connor’s wedding.”

Jill could feel her throat tighten. Charles was the last person she wanted to have this conversation with because she knew he would never cede any ground to her. “I… I think… Papa, it’s a personal matter,” she smiled, tightly. “Warren is making a big deal out of nothing.”

“We both know that Warren isn’t one for tales, Jill. He’s quiet. Measured. Thoughtful. He’s not like India or Billy.”

“Papa, this is really between me and Warren.” Jill wanted nothing more than to run screaming for the hills, but she knew that she would have to endure whatever Charles threw her way.

“It ceased being between you and Warren when my son came to me in outright distress over the way you are behaving when it comes to his children being in his brother’s wedding,” snapped Charles. He took another sip of his martini before adding, “I do hope that your reticence isn’t because Billy’s gay.”

“I am not homophobic! Just because I don’t want to fall in line with what Billy wants doesn’t make me a bad person, Papa.”

Charles shook his head with marked irritation. “You’re a young fool. It’s impossible to separate one from the other. Regardless, Billy is my son. He will always have my unyielding loyalty and devotion.”

“It’s a shame you can’t offer that same loyalty and devotion to India,” snapped Jill. “The way you and your family fawn over Billy when he’s marrying the man who tormented India is sickening.”

“Watch your mouth…”

“Why should I??” snarled Jill. “I will not fall in line when this whole wedding is wrong on a thousand different levels! You people have never believed India when she accused Connor of raping her. Never. You people have instantly welcomed Connor into your inner sanctum just because Billy is in love. It’s sickening, Papa!”

Charles narrowed his gaze on his daughter-in-law. In all of the years she’d been married to Warren, Charles had never seen this side of her. Yes, it had been hinted at once or twice, but seeing it in the flesh was another experience unto itself. “Now, you listen to me, Jill. I will choose to forget how you have slandered my family. You should count yourself very lucky that you are Warren’s wife. However, it would behoove you to remember that you are only a member of this family in name only. And that, my dear, can be taken away from you.”

Jill recoiled at Charles’ threat. She felt like she was going to be sick and die at the same time. “Don’t threaten me…”

“I’m not,” Charles said, coolly. “I’m reminding you that it would be in your best interest to leave your personal feelings to one side while performing your duties as Warren’s wife and the mother of my grandchildren. You may think yourself free to do whatever you like, but all of this…” Charles waved his hands at the expensive cottage without a care in the world. “Well, all of this is by virtue of you being Mrs. Warren Montgomery, not Jill Stanhope.” With that, Charles stood up, admired the view, and turned to his ashen daughter-in-law. “I like you, Jill. Really. I do. However, I love my family, of which you are a part, much more. I’d be very careful before you decide to die on your sword because of a deeply held belief.”

Jill screwed up as much courage as she could muster. “I won’t…be threatened, Papa.”

“I’m giving you the lay of the land. It’s up to you to decide how to move forward, my dear.” Charles took in the view once more. “I wonder if you could get a timeshare like this when if you’re no longer Mrs. Warren Montgomery. It would be a lovely memory to have, Jill. Well, I have to catch my plane back to Kingsport. Do have a nice day.”

In the hours that followed Jill after Charles’ departure, a feeling of dread coursed through her body. It wasn’t that Charles had flown from Connecticut to Maine in order to put her in her place, but the fact that he did it without ever threatening her. She could die on her sword or swallow her pride in order to keep her life the way it was. Jill tried to recall her old life. That life was filled with shabby furniture, pity lunches, and well-worn clothes in need of more mending than they could take. This life was one of excess and quiet abundance. The thought of losing it all made her sick, while the thought of having her daughters in Will’s wedding made her just as ill. She was in a no-win situation. If she wanted to win, she had to think fast. Time was running out. And, in that moment, Jill Stanhope Montgomery pulled the trigger.

In our next installment, Alison confronts India about what happened in Paris…

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