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"But the blackouts continued. My parents were worried. Worried I would have another occurrence of whatever had happened in December. So I was put on a sedative, something to keep me calm. It stopped the blackouts, but I couldn't think on it. It dulled everything, including my ability to process intelligent thought—at least not on the same level as before. I grew increasingly quiet, lost interest in computers, in everything. So..." He shifts, pressing his palms together and staring out onto the water. "Jillian and I made a deal."
I sit up a little in my chair. "A deal?"
"I stopped taking the medication, and she covered for any blackouts I had. At that point in time, close to the completion of Sheila, I was in the basement 90% of the time, with her for the majority of that. I was only seeing my parents at meals and before bed. Any blackouts I had, Jillian concealed. In exchange, I focused on getting Sheila finished and ready for our meetings with investors."
"You were, what? Twelve at this point?"
"Eleven."
"Not old enough to make that deal."
"I wasn't a typical eleven-year-old. I was intelligent enough to make a quantified calculation of risk versus reward. And since Jillian was the one most at risk, and since she was the one spending time with me, I made the decision."
"No.Shemade the decision. How much did she make in your initial sale?"
"A few million dollars. Ten percent of the deal."
I bite my tongue because if he’s anything at all, it’s intelligent enough to see the twisted motivations that would have spurned Jillian’s actions. After a moment, he resumes.
"When I was around twenty, we started BSX. With BSX we could stop selling off my projects and instead develop them in-house. Our income increased ten-fold, and I decided I had enough money to live the rest of my life. Enough residual income that my children wouldn't ever have to work. So I went to Jillian and told her I wanted a change. Told her I wanted to resume the medicine."
"Why?"
He sighs. "Not knowing about my blackouts ... it was a constant fear in my life. I'd have them without even knowing it. Jillian would wear a long-sleeve shirt, and I'd wonder if she was covering up bruises from my touch. We were still, for the most part, sequestered from the outside world. And I wanted to live, to have a life, to work in an environment where I could collaborate with others, have relationships, friendships. I wanted normality, and I was willing to sacrifice my career for it. I was okay with a muted intellectual life if it meant security in knowing and controlling my actions. And, more importantly, not worrying about what else I was doing.”
"What'd she say?"
He snorts. "She didn't take it well. Thought it was a horrible idea. Brought up the projects we had ongoing. Printed out our ten-year plan. Cursed me for wasting my talent. But, she eventually came around and tracked down my old doctor, the man you met this morning at Jillian's. She put him on salary for BSX."
So that’s who the man was, the one who had been beside the bed, while Brant was tied down to it. I growl without meaning to and he laughs and holds out his arms. "Come here." I move from my chair to his, and it’s a tight fit but I curl into a ball on his lap. He wraps his arms around my back and hugs me to his chest, inhaling into my neck and nuzzling the skin with the scratchy surface of his face. I’m not used to the facial hair on him. He hasn’t shaved since before he disappeared, and it reminds me of Lee and the times when I would have him for days at a time.
He continues on, his voice calm, like he isn’t telling me a horror story. "Dr. F tried me on a different medication, whatever's in that bottle. It was supposed to be a downer with caffeine, something to calm me while keeping me alert, focused. It worked immediately. My brain processes were as strong as ever and my blackouts stopped."
I wait for more and the moment stretches out until my curiosity can't hold it in any longer. I push on his chest, getting enough distance between us so that I can see his face. "And?"
He shrugs. "And, that was it. I've been on that medication for almost two decades. Haven't had a blackout since." His mouth is tight, gaze jumping minutely as his mind works out the problem before him.
It's not hard to figure out. For me, it seems painfully clear. “So, you believe that? Or do you think she's been lying to you? Hiding blackouts from you?"
His gaze meets mine and it’s so steady and honest that I almost believe it. "I don't know why she'd do that."
Bullshit. He knows exactly why she'd do that. Knowing him, he probably had a diagram of motivations and probabilities already completed in his head.
"There's another issue." He sighs and readjusts me on his lap. "Jillian told me that I’ve been declared incompetent, and that she’s been appointed as my conservator."
“So, she's in control of your business and your finances?" I frown. “What about your medical decisions? Can she do that?"
Lee would have already been punching walls and vowing to rip Jillian’s throat out. But Brant was the man he always was. Calm. Thoughtful. Even now, faced with Jillian’s manipulation and betrayal, the only evidence of his concern was in the pinch of skin in between his eyebrows. "The question of my competency could certainly be challenged. I can see a valid argument for the possibility that another one of my personalities could make choices that negatively affect my life, and therefore permanent or important decision-making ability should be removed from my person all together."
"But you're brilliant. You've been in control of your decisions for twenty years."
"And what kind of risks did I take? Did you ever see me take actions as Lee that might have endangered myself or our lifestyle?" He rotates me in his lap so that we’re in direct eye contact. I avoid it as I think through the last two years.
Lee: seeing multiple women.Risking our relationship, and exposing us both to STDs.Lee: often drunk, getting in fights, coming home bloody and bruised.A liability nightmare as well as danger to himself and others.Lee: prone to tempers and driving under the influence.More liability. More risk.
"Did I?" Brant pulls my face back to him.
"In ways," I answer carefully. "Lee is a loose cannon. He doesn't have your level of control, nor intelligence. He acts without thinking things through. But … he isn't going to walk into your bank and withdraw your money. He has no idea that he’s you, so he isn't going to mess with your business or finances. The risk he poses to you are mostly liability. I could see him doing something that Brant Sharp is then sued for. He’s reckless and he acts like he doesn't have anything to lose.”
