Authors: BL Miller
"Rose, don't worry about it, please? I promise everything will be all right." She looked at her watch. "Come on, I think Jeopardy is coming up soon. We'll sit back and see who gets the most questions right, okay?"
"I like Jeopardy," Rose said, pressing the button to raise the head of the bed slightly. "There's a TV in the employee lounge at work and sometimes my dinner break is at seven-thirty so I can watch it. I'm pretty good too, although I don't know if I'll be able to stay awake too long."
"Oh, do you want me to leave so you can get some sleep?"
"No." She reached out for Veronica's hand. "Please stay."
"Sure, just don't get upset if I get more answers right. No one will play Trivial Pursuit with me."
"Oh, do you have that? It's such a fun game. I played it once down at the community center."
"I'll make you a deal. I'll bring it in tomorrow for us to play and I promise not to beat you too badly."
"We'll see who beats who," Rose countered with a smile. The Jeopardy theme song drew their attention to the television. "Ooh, it's starting." She settled her head back into her pillow to watch the show but before the first commercial break she was sleeping. The dark-haired executive gently tucked Rose's blanket in and shut the television off. She sat there for several minutes looking at the large casts and the stitches that formed a line on the young woman's cheekbone.
"I'm sorry," she whispered before leaving the room.
**********************
Tabitha was waiting none too patiently at the door when Veronica returned home. "Mrrow!"
"What? You have food."
"Mrrow!"
"You have toys and you have food. What more do you want?" Tabitha responded by rubbing against Veronica's leg, leaving orange and white hairs all over her black slacks. She bent down and picked the feline up, apparently turning on the purr button at the same time. She held the happy cat with one arm and the attaché in the other. "Wanna see how the fax machine works?
Come on."
Veronica's office was on the first floor near the stairs. Five minutes later the insurance forms were faxed and the dark-haired woman ran upstairs to change into her 'comfortable' clothes, namely an oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants. She glanced at her watch and groaned. She had a meeting first thing in the morning and had yet to review the monthly reports. "I think it's gonna be a long night, Tabitha." She plodded over to her desk and turned on her computer, dreading the idea of spending the next few hours pouring over spreadsheets and reports. Of course, the heads of each division would go over the same things with her tomorrow but Veronica prided herself on knowing exactly how good or bad each department was doing before hearing the glossed over version from her relatives. A push of the power button and the computer hummed to life, the Cartwright corporate logo covering the twenty-inch screen. She typed her password and the logo disappeared, revealing the main screen. "Mrrow?"
"No. This is human stuff, nothing up here for you to see," she said to the anxious cat standing up on hind legs in anticipation of being picked up. Tabitha extended her front claws into the light gray of Veronica's sweatpants. "Don't even think about it."
"Mrrow?"
"No. Go play with your toys." She turned her attention to the first report, Cartwright Real Estate. Veronica's younger brother Tommy was in charge of that division. Several tracts of land had been purchased throughout the region in anticipation of building housing developments but they were seriously behind in their growth projections. The timetable had called for one hundred homes to be built and sold, yet as of the end of last month only twenty had actually been completed and barely half of those had bids in on them much less sold. "What am I gonna do with him?" She leaned back in her comfortable leather chair and rubbed her eyes. The movement seemed to be an open invitation to Tabitha, who quickly jumped up onto her lap. "Come on, I can't get any work done if you're here." She gently scooped the purring animal in her arms and set it down on the floor. "Go play."
The clock in the lower right corner of the computer read 2:53 a.m. by the time Veronica gave up and shut the computer down for the night. She went out to the main room to set the alarm for the night when she spotted the dark blue vinyl checkbook sitting on the entry table next to the library books. Her conscience told her not to look, that Rose's financial business was her own, but curiosity got the best of her and she found herself sitting on the soft brown leather sofa with the checkbook in hand.
There were not that many entries. The register only went back four months, but it gave a wealth of insight into the life of the woman lying in the hospital. Small, neat writing detailed every deposit, every check. No deposit was over one hundred fifty dollars. Four withdrawals were listed as being for rent, each time wiping out money that had taken most of the previous month to build up. Two entries existed for the power company, and several were written to Money Slasher. Every week deposits of various meager amounts were recorded followed by checks to the supermarket for groceries. The highest check was for slightly over ten dollars and the lowest was for just over five. What Veronica found most interesting were the remaining checks, all written to someone named Delores Bickering. Those checks ranged in amount from five to twenty-five dollars, each one taking what little remained in the young woman's account after paying for her weekly expenses. Those entries appeared just as often as the checks to Money Slasher. The current balance showed one hundred twelve dollars and change in the young woman's account, far less than the rent that had been due. Veronica's eyes went back to the entry for the November rent. It was that week that Rose had purchased the five dollars and change worth of groceries, the register showing a negative amount of two dollars and fifteen cents after that entry. It was the only time that Rose had overdrawn her account and Veronica could not even imagine what the young woman had purchased to try and survive that week.
She closed the checkbook and set it down on the coffee table. Why was Rose, who did not have two dimes to rub together, constantly writing checks to someone else? Did she have an old debt she was trying to pay off? What other explanation could there be? The young woman said that there was no one to contact, so this Bickering person could not be a relative. The late hour and the heavy thinking took its toll as exhaustion finally won out and the couch once again became the wealthy woman's bed for the night, with Tabitha curled up against her.
*******************
Somewhere in the distance a phone was ringing. Veronica rolled over, disturbing the sleeping cat. The ringing became louder and louder, penetrating her dream world and pulling her out of her sound sleep. Her arm shot out and clumsily fumbled about the coffee table for the annoying telephone. "Mmm…Cartwright."
"Ronnie?"
"Yeah?" came the sleep muddled reply.
"Ronnie, do you have any idea what time it is?" The sound of her sister's voice helped to clear the cobwebs in her mind as she slowly rolled into a sitting position. "It's quarter to ten."
"Oh shit!" Blue eyes shot open as she realized the purpose of the call. "Dammit, I fell asleep on the couch. I'll be there as soon as I can." She was already heading for the stairs, cordless phone in hand. "Susan, not a word. I had a flat tire, got it?"
"I can't believe you overslept," the younger sister chuckled. "I thought you had a built in alarm clock. Wait until Mom hears this."
"Susan…" she growled, reaching the top of the stairs and racing into her bedroom. "I'll be there, stall them or something." She hit the off button on the phone and tossed it on the bed as she headed for her bathroom. Fifteen minutes later she was in her Jeep Cherokee and heading for Albany, speed limits be damned.
At ten-thirty, the double oak doors opened wide as Veronica raced into the meeting room.
"Sorry, flat tire." she said while taking her seat at the far end of the long rectangular table. "Shall we get started?" The silence she received caused her to take a look around. Apparently she was not the only one to have trouble getting to the meeting on time. "Where's Tommy?"
"I don't know. I've been calling him ever since I got off the phone with you and there's no answer at any of his numbers," Susan replied. Seated just to the right of her older sister, the head of Cartwright Insurance could never be mistaken for Veronica. Susan had, thanks to hours with a stylist, flaming red hair permed into large curls that swarmed about her head and on down to her shoulders. Though married for thirteen years to a successful lawyer, she refused to give up her family name, deciding that the stature it provided was far better than the common name of Smith. Unlike Veronica, who outside of light nail polish could only rarely be coerced into wearing the slightest amount of makeup, Susan believed wholeheartedly that it enhanced her features and thus spent two hours every morning applying everything from base to blush to mascara.
"Did you try his beeper?" It was a stupid question but Ronnie still had to ask. Over the last few months, her youngest sibling had become increasingly difficult to get hold of and his attentiveness at meetings left plenty to be desired. Looking at her watch, she decided not to wait for the wayward sibling any longer. "Fine, we're running late enough, let's just get started." She opened her portfolio and pulled out the first report. One by one they went around the room, ten different Cartwrights or relations of Cartwrights explaining how their particular division was doing and what their plans were for the next month. Most of the words sailed past Veronica, who nodded occasionally but paid hardly any attention. Her mind was several miles away, wondering what Rose was doing, how she was feeling, and how Delores Bickering fit into the young woman's life.
It was quarter past twelve when the doors opened to reveal a sandy haired man, looking disheveled and rumpled. "Sorry," he mumbled, slinking over to his chair. "Power outage, alarm didn't go off."
"I suppose you didn't have a clean suit either?" Veronica said disapprovingly. The various cousins and relatives surrounding the table looked from the black-haired woman to Tommy and back again, fully expecting a battle. The young man, however, pretended not to notice his oldest sister's comment.
"Did I miss anything important?"
"No, of course not," her tone barely betrayed her annoyance at him. "I was just getting ready to go over the figures for your latest project."
"I'd say we're in pretty good shape, all things considered," he replied. Ten pairs of eyes flew back to Veronica.
"And just what things would you like me to consider in light of the figures I'm looking at?" She pulled out the computer-generated report and flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for. "Sales are off almost thirty percent over last year and expenses are through the roof."
"I can't help it if the contractors raised their prices. Inflation, you know," he shot back angrily. Veronica didn't miss the bloodshot eyes or the way Tommy kept looking at his watch.
"Inflation has nothing to do with this. According to these figures, over fifty housing units should be completed. As of last week, only twenty were finished. What the hell is going on, Tommy?"
"I'm on top of it, all right?" he shot back angrily, his fist striking the marble tabletop with enough force to shake the water glass in front of him. Silence filled the room as everyone waited for Veronica to react. Instead she turned her attention to Frank.
"I hear you got the variance you wanted. When's the ground-breaking?" For the rest of the meeting, the black-haired woman refused to look at her angry brother, and vice-versa. Tommy left the instant the meeting was over, only adding to the speculations and comments by the relatives.
"Ronnie, what's going on with him?" Susan had pulled the executive aside, concern clearly written on her face. "He's been so strange lately, so angry. You don't think he's doing drugs, do you?"
"I don't know what I think, Sis, I just know that something is wrong." She glanced at her watch.
"I need to be somewhere."
"Yeah, what's going on with you? What's with this Grayson person?" Her younger sister's natural curiosity for gossip, particularly whenever it concerned anyone in the family, was showing through.
"Nothing, just someone I met and decided to hire. Did you take care of that insurance?" As she was talking, Veronica was heading toward the door.
"Of course. It's on my list of things to do today." Susan replied casually.
"No. It has to be done right away. And don't forget to backdate it to the beginning of the month. It's very important." She gripped her younger sister's upper arm to stress her point.
"I'll do it the instant I get back to my office. Really, Ronnie, you'd think it was a life or death situation."
"Just make sure it's done today, Susan. Fax the confirmations to me at home." Veronica walked out to the elegant hallway and pressed the down button for the elevator. She stepped in only to have her younger sister stick her arm out to keep the doors from shutting.
"Hey, I almost forgot to ask. What'd you get Mom for Christmas?"
"I've got to go, Susan." She pressed the button and waited expectantly.
"You mean you haven't gotten her anything yet? Christmas is only twenty days away."
"That's twenty days that I have to pick something out. Don't worry about it. Mom will have an appropriate gift from me. Come on, Susan. I need to get going here." She pushed her sister's arm out of the way of the doors.
"Just don't forget to be at Mom's next Friday for dinner. You promised."
******************
The Jeep wound its way up Madison Avenue just as a light snow began to fall. Veronica remembered her promise to bring a Trivial Pursuit game with her but the darkening clouds and the late hour made her decide to forgo a trip to the mall to pick one up in favor of getting to the hospital before it got too much later.
She walked through the open door to Rose's room only to find the bed empty, an orderly changing the sheets. "Where's Miss Grayson?"