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Your mother was beautiful. So very, very beautiful. Her hair was dark, like yours. Her eyes a deep, but bright brown. We met on a plane. My briefcase was in her seat when she boarded. She looked at it and then at me and lifted an eyebrow. Never said anything, just gave me a look.
That one look left me speechless.
The flight was from London and she said nothing the entire flight. It was only after we landed at JFK, just before they opened the door to let us off... She opened her bag and pulled out a cream calling card with her name and a phone number. "You can pick me up tomorrow at 7:30 for dinner." And then she was gone.
I canceled a very important business dinner to make that date.
***
Everyone has secrets. From little things like peeing in the shower to the big, dark stuff. The stuff that hurts. Chuck's biggest secrets were known by only one person -- himself.
That he loved his dad despite everything. That he missed the mother he'd never known. That he wanted more than anything to belong somewhere, to belong to someone.
His secrets. And even he couldn't see them all.
***
We'll do something next weekend. This meeting is important, but after, I'll make time for you. I promise.
***
He cried constantly the first year. Nothing could settle him. He went through 5 nannies in the first 11 months. Then Nanny Claire came along. She stayed until Chuck was six. She was mother and father in one, Bart constantly gone on business. And then one day she was spinning him around by his arms while he laughed and pleaded for "faster, faster." When she finally put him down, he was dizzy and wobbly and he knocked over a vase. The vase his mother had bought for their first home and kept filled with her favorite flowers. The vase Bart himself had kept filled with her favorites ever since that day. The vase he placed in the foyer to greet him when he came home.
Nanny Claire was gone before dinner.
After that the nannies never lasted more than a few months unless Bart was fucking them. Then they'd make it until just after their birthday or Christmas, whichever came first. A new piece of jewelry, a severance check, then shuffled out the servants' entrance.
***
She was in labor for 37 hours with you. Smiling through the pain, holding my hand, telling me how happy she was, how excited to be a mother. She loved you so much. And you killed her.
***
Everyone knew the story of Chuck losing his virginity to Georgina in sixth grade. That (not so secret) secret was true. But only Chuck and his father's valet knew what happened after she left.
He'd had an amazing mouth. And an amazing dick. He was gentle and sweet and a father in ways Bart had never been, could never be. Fatherly in ways he probably shouldn't have been. But Chuck reckoned that even if he hadn't wanted it, the valet couldn't have possibly hurt him as much as Bart's absence did.
***
We'll do something next weekend. This meeting is important, but after, I'll make time for you. I promise.
***
Chuck found it hard to remember a time when he didn't drink or pop the occasional pill. Not that he was an addict. He wasn't stupid.
As fucked up as it sounded, his father'd raised him to be smarter than that.
But when Dan Humphrey of all people asked him about drinking alone in upscale bars, he didn't lie. At least not completely. Lonely women made good company, even if just for a night. Or a few hours.
What he didn't say was that when he was feeling self-destructive he cruised the Village for lonely men instead.
***
It's a good thing your mother isn't here to see this. It would kill her. It's better that you killed her before she had to see what you'd grow up to become.
***
Chuck liked having a younger brother. He thought maybe he could be something for Eric, give him something he'd never had himself. He admired him for being comfortable with himself, for finding some sort of peace, for having had the courage to try and kill himself.
Chuck was never that brave no matter how many times or how much he'd wanted to end it. He sometimes wished he'd been the one to die when he was born. If he had, maybe his father would have loved him and missed him and longed for what he'd lost.
But Eric ... Eric had a mother and sister who loved him without limits. Chuck wanted that even though he didn't quite know how to feel when Lily was nice to him, when she called him Charles, when she treated him with respect. It was all so foreign to him. He liked it though, and he was determined to not fuck it up. He was determined to not fuck up Eric.
He knew he'd fail.
***
We'll do something next weekend. This meeting is important, but after, I'll make time for you. I promise.
***
Chuck had fallen in love twice so far. First with his best friend, whom he'd kissed once -- when Nate had been fucked up enough to not remember the next day (or not admit it if he did). He loved Nate unconditionally, would never stop loving him even if other people took precedence in his life. Nate had been his friend for as long as he could remember. Chuck was counting the days until Nate gave up on him.
Then came Blair, who burned both brighter and darker than Chuck ever had. Ever could. Blair. Whose eyes and hair reminded him of pictures of his mother. Whose words bit as hard as his father's, but whose teeth bit exactly as hard as he wanted. Whose mouth tasted like berries and gin while whispering yes without a trace of sweetness.
Blair. Who knew what he was and gave up before shestarted.
***
Maybe she could have raised you to be a better man. She was amazing. An angel. And you ... well, you're no angel. If I didn't know her so well, I might think you weren't even mine.