40 Something - Safety (5 page)

“Charlie,
Charlie, I am just concerned. Of course you are a valued member of
our team and we don’t want you to go anywhere. You work more hours
than any other lawyer here and your billable hours have always been
impressive. It was unlike you to not be in top form, it was concern
is all.”

I bet you old
coot. You want me out. Well I’m not going anywhere. I brace my
hands on the chair to rise and leave.

“Now for the
reason I called you in.”

I let go of the
chair and settle back in, there’s more. Great.

“Yes, Sir.”

“I just had a
meeting today with our forensic accountant about one of my cases
and he filled me in on what he’s been working on for us. The
Granger file is yours correct?”

“Yes.”

“He told me
that he suspected there was a company account that Mr. Granger
neglected to tell us about in discovery.”

“Yes. Which is
why my client hired him.”

“Have you read
the report?”

“No. Not yet. I
just received it and have set time aside this afternoon to review
it and the psychological assessment.”

“It seems that
some money was syphoned off into a couple off shore shell companies
and has been since day one. This is going to cause a major tax
problem for your client.”

“Why my
client?”

“The shell
companies are in her name. Are you sure it was him who was hiding
money and not your client?”

“Why would she
agree to the forensic audit if she was the one?”

“The accountant
did say, off the record of course, that he suspects those funds may
not be on the up and up.”

“Meaning?”

“Dirty money.
You need to find out if your client signed anything or knew
anything about where this money came from and how it was run
through the company. There is a chance this money doesn’t
technically belong to Mr. Granger or Mrs. Granger.”

“You’re talking
about laundering. That’s beyond my expertise.”

“I know. That’s
why I want you to work with Doug. This is his area of
expertise.”

“Doug.” Oh
great the day just keeps getting worse. “Isn’t there anyone
else?”

“He’s the best.
Why is there a problem?”

“No. No. Of
course not. I can work with Doug. I will talk to my client, review
the accountant’s report and then talk to Doug about the case.”

“Good. There is
nothing in writing at this point. It’s all speculation and off the
record, let’s keep it that way, until we know what this money is
about.”

“Thank
you.”

“You may go
now.”

I make my way
back to my office. Really. Doug? Fuck.

I’m home. Safe.
Home is safe.

I never
realized how safe I felt at home, until now.

I can hear the
kids upstairs. They are safe inside these walls. If I could, I’d
never let them outside. The world is filled with Craig’s and worse,
Mansons, Dalmers, and Bundys. They are out there waiting to strike
on vulnerable girls, like my daughters.

The stats don’t
lie. Girls are vulnerable. They are harassed, raped, kidnapped,
abused, exploited, and murdered. Why couldn’t I have had all
boys?

I love my
girls. I love them all. This world is just too dangerous for
them.

I can’t stand
still. Energy pulses through me and I need to move. I clean. I
tidy. I do the laundry. I work. I’m vibrating, an uncomfortable
feeling is overwhelming me.

“Kids.” I yell.
“Kids.” I want to see them make sure they are safe. “Kids.”

“Ya mom?”
Aiden, my sweet boy comes down.

“Go get your
sisters. I want to talk to you guys.”

“Are there
cookies?”

“Yes. I’ll give
you all cookies.” He obeys.

“What’s up
hun?” Gus asks me.

I hug him. I
pull myself close into him. I feel safe. I am safe. We are
safe.

“Seriously hun.
What’s wrong? You’re shaking.”

Gus pulls away
to look down into my face. I can see his concern for me and I pull
him close again. Wrapped in his arms I am safe.

“Life. I guess.
Today reminded me that the world isn’t safe.”

“It’s
safe.”

“But –“

“Look. That
guy’s an asshole, plenty of those around, but he isn’t dangerous.
Just a bully.”

“Charlie was
right about Sophie not staying here.” I say.

“Probably for
the best. We don’t need to be inviting trouble in.”

“What’s this
about trouble?” My dad asks.

“Oh just
talking about how Charlie was right about Sophie not staying here.”
I say.

“Well, Charlie
knows about these things. Do you have any iced tea?”

“Here dad I’ll
make you some.”

I fill the
kettle and put it to boil. Best to keep busy. Doing things takes my
mind off my problems and helps to settle my nerves. I wipe the
counters, re-organize the items that are displayed on it for easier
access. I grab my favourite glass pitcher, a couple tea bags, ice
from the freezer and a frozen concentrated lemonade container.

If something
happened to one of my girls. I’d be devastated. The world is a
scary place. There was that teenager in the next town over who was
raped. Did they ever catch the guy? I read somewhere that one in
four women will be sexually assaulted in their lifetime, or is that
three in four? Oh my. This world is getting so dangerous. It’s not
as safe as when I was a teenager. How can I keep my girls safe?

“Howard what
time is it? Shouldn’t we be getting home?” My mom asks.

“Mom. When we
were teenagers did you worry about us?”

“Of course
dear. I still do. Every mother worries about their children.”

“No. I mean.
Was it dangerous out there in the world?”

“Yes. It seems
to have gotten worse. But there were still bad things happening
when you were a teenager and when I was. I remember a couple of
girls I went to school with were raped and murdered. It was a scary
time until they finally caught the man, a drifter. Some thought he
was innocent, but it never happened again.”

“How did you
keep us safe?” I ask her.

“Prayer. Lots
of prayer. Even with it though your sister was hurt.”

“Charlie was
never hurt.”

“Not Charlie.
Grace.”

“Grace? Nothing
happened to Grace.”

“You remember.”
I shake my head, I don’t know what she’s talking about. “In
University. She was raped.”

“No she wasn’t.
I’d have known if she was.”

“Sure you knew.
I told you.” My mom says.

“You never told
me anything of the sort. Mom I think you need to go talk to your
doctor about your memory. You seem to be mixing up fiction with
reality.”

“Rose.” My dad
says. “Your mother is telling the truth. We didn’t talk about it.
Didn’t want to upset you or your sisters by talking about it. It
happened and that was it. She got over it and moved on.”

“I’d know if
that happened to Grace.”

I would.
Wouldn’t I? I was in high school when Grace was in University. I
was home. Well, most of the time I was out with Gus or at the
Fischers, but the rest of the time I was home. I’d know if
something like that happened to my sister.

“Hey mom what
do you want?” Alexis asks.

Isabella and
Aiden follow her into the kitchen.

“I just want to
spend time with my kids. Is that so terrible?” Silence. “Where’s
Jessica?”

“She’s not
here.” Aiden says.

“What do you
mean not here?”

No one says
anything. I scramble to the phone and dial her number. No answer. I
dial again and no answer. Panic raises it’s ugly head deep down
inside me and is gripping at my heart with both hands. Where is
she?

“Did she came
home from school?” I ask.

“I don’t know.”
Aiden says. I look at the girls who shrug.

“Isabella, you
go to school with her. You must have seen her.”

“No. I haven’t
seen her for a couple days.”

“Days? What?
You would have seen her this morning.”

I dial the
phone again. No answer. I keep dialling.

“No. I think
she left for school before I got up.” Isabella says.

“Last night?
Gus can you text her?” He nods.

“I don’t think
so.” Isabella shrugs.

“I know I saw
her last night. She came down, got some food and went back up to
her room.”

At least I
think she did. I was so busy with getting everything out and
cleaned up. The boys kept getting in the way. I try to picture
Jessica getting a plate. Suddenly, I’m not so sure I did see
her.

“If you say so
mom.” Isabella said. “She probably just went to a friends house
after school. I’ll text her.”

“Which friend?
Joanna? Kariann? Jodie?”

“I don’t think
she’s friends with them anymore.” Isabella said. “I haven’t seen
her with them in school.”

“What?” I have
no idea what to say. “Who is she hanging around with then?”

They all shrug.
I grab the phone list and start calling all her friends. None have
seen her and they confirm that they don’t really hang out anymore.
This doesn’t make any sense. Where is my girl? Where is my sweet
Jessica?

Suddenly, I see
her, in my mind that is, she’s scared, beaten, and half naked.
She’s being raped. No, she’s locked in some crazy man’s basement.
No, she’s dead lying in a ditch where no one can find her. Images,
thoughts, and fears race through my mind. What kind of mother
doesn’t know where her kid is every minute of every day?

I try calling
her again.

“Mom.” Alexis’
voice stops me. “Get a grip. It’s 5:00 she’ll be home soon. Stop
acting like a drama queen. Jeezus.”

“Alexis.” My
mother’s shocked voice. “Language young lady. Rose does she always
swear like that?”

“Hun.” Gus hugs
me. “I’ll go look for her. OK? Calm down. She’s fine. She’s
probably at the library lost in a book. You know Jessica.”

The library.
Right. The library. That’s probably where she is. Of course that’s
where my good, quiet, shy, bookish girl would be. I nod at Gus and
as he is getting his coat on, the back door opens and Jessica walks
in. The whole room goes still. Everyone looks at her without a
word.

She’s alive. My
girl is safe. Home. And alive. Relief sweeps over me and in two
strides I’ve got her in my arms and I’m sobbing.

“What?” Jessica
voice is in my ear and I am filled with love.

A couple large
men show up at 6:00 along with a drop dead gorgeous woman. She is
tall, classy, well dressed, and did I mention, drop dead gorgeous.
I feel like a gargoyle next to her. Lindsay is beautiful. This
woman, she is more than that, she is the kind of women powerful men
have on their arms. A woman who possesses a combination of old
fashion glamour with timeless grace. This woman is someone I’d
never be within a hundred miles of let alone in the same room
as.

“Lindsay
darling. You’re looking gorgeous.”

“Marissa. You
are impeccable as always. Thank you for coming on such short
notice.”

“It’s what
friends do. Where would we be if we didn’t have each other’s
back?”

Somehow her
voice has me visualizing her long, sculpted nails in Lindsay’s back
more than the two of them standing back-to-back protecting each
other. I’m not sure why. The tone? Something underneath it doesn’t
sound sincere. Something in the way she talks to Lindsay makes the
hairs on the back of my neck stand up, like they did before Craig
would have a temper tantrum.

“This is
Sophie.”

“Yes. Hello. So
what is it you need my dear?”

She didn’t look
at me, like I am beneath her notice, like I’m the help and not an
equal. I instinctively look down at my toes and step back, out of
her way, out of her sight. I know I’m being silly. This is
Lindsay’s friend. I’m just paranoid and weird.

“Sophie stop
being silly.”

I can hear my
mother’s voice saying the words in my head. She always told me I
was just being silly whenever I tried to tell her how I felt. Here
I am at 40 and I still hear her voice admonishing me when I am
feeling uncomfortable, upset, bad, that I’m just being silly and to
stop it.

I wonder what
voices my mother hears? Does she hear my grandmother’s voice?
Still?

“Sophie here is
my new roommate.” Lindsay says.

“Your roommate.
Well, how quaint.”

“Yes. I was
getting a bit lonely and Sophie just moved here and is looking to
buy a place. You know this market is so hot it’s hard to find
anything decent. So until she does, she’s going to stay here.”

“Buy a place
you say.”

“Yes. She’s
looking for something bigger than my place, she has the two kids
after all.”

“Bigger?”

“Much.”

“Well I will
have to keep my eyes open for you Sophie.”

The woman is
extending her hand out to me and I take it, gingerly. I look to
Lindsay in a bit of shock. What is she talking about? I’m about to
contradict her when she puts a finger to her lips in a shhhh sign
and winks. Winks. Like we have some secret. A game of some kind. I
am confused. I don’t like lying. I want to say something. Lindsay
shakes her head and this gorgeous, classy, snob of a woman takes my
arm and leads me to follow Lindsay towards the rooms the kids are
in.

“What do you
think Marissa? Olivia is 7 years old. Too old for the cartoony
stuff and princesses are out. This girl is not a girly girl. I
don’t want little girl.”

“Pre tween.
Some bold colours, vibrant, and girl punk. Cutesy skulls that type
of thing.”

“Perfect. I
knew you’d know what to do.”

Marissa tells
us what she plans on doing with the room Olivia is using. I look
from Lindsay to Marissa back to Lindsay. I don’t understand.