Authors: Claire Adams
CHAPTER
FORTY-ONE
I
tried calling
Leah to arrange a meeting, but she didn't pick up the phone. It seemed a little
strange, but I figured that she was probably out on the warehouse floor helping
the guys rearrange the inventory now that the renovation was almost complete. I
wanted to tour the space with her and find out what needed to happen, but I
decided that it could wait.
"Hey, Norma,
have you heard from Leah today?" I shouted through the open door.
"No, hon, I
have not," she called back. "Y’all want me to run down and see what's
what?"
"Nah, it's
good," I said. "But I do need all of those reports you've been
compiling for me on the sales figures and the incoming accounts."
"Darlin',
that saleswoman of yours has not given me the paperwork as promised," she
said as she came into my office and dropped the stack of papers on my desk.
"She's got her nose so high in the air when it comes to me that she'd
drown in a rainstorm."
"Norma, where
on earth do you get these sayings?" I laughed, thinking about how well
that one fit Sloan.
"Darlin', I
was raised poor in the South," she said giving me a disapproving look.
“Folksy sayings were all we had."
"I see. Well,
carry on," I said as she tossed her perfectly coiffed head and marched
back to her desk in a fit of faux fury.
I spent the next
several hours making phone calls to everyone on my list, and by the time I was
done, I was satisfied that things were going according to plan. I wanted to
tell Leah what was going to happen, but since I couldn't find her, I decided it
would have to be somewhat of a surprise.
"Norma, I'm
going out for a bit," I said as I headed to the car. I felt my pocket for
my phone, and said, "If anyone needs me, call my cell, or tell them I'll
be back in a few hours."
"Okay,
hon," she smiled as she looked up from her computer. "I'll do
that."
By the time I
returned from running my errands, Sloan was waiting for me in the front
reception area looking highly irritated. I hid a smile as I walked through the
door and acknowledged her.
"Any
messages, Norma?" I asked as I stopped in front of her desk and received a
wide smile, letting me know she was enjoying this as much as I was.
"No, sir. Not
a one," she shook her head. "It's slower than a Sunday afternoon
'round here today."
"Very
well," I nodded as I turned and looked at Sloan. "You want to step
into my office and have a talk?"
Sloan got up and
gathered her things before strutting through the doorway. I could tell she was
angry, but I didn't do anything to stem her ire. Instead, I sat behind my desk
and looked up at her expectantly.
"What?"
she huffed. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like
what?" I said calmly.
"Like you're
judging me or something," she replied as she dug through her purse.
"I prefer it when you're doing things to make me happy."
"As do
I," I said smiling at her. "That's why I want to invite you to dinner
tonight at my mother's. It's going to be special."
"Oh,
really?" she said looking up at me curiously. "What kind of special
event are you planning?"
"You'll
see," I said mysteriously. "Just show up at eight, and wear something
pretty."
"Fine,"
she sighed as she closed her purse and smiled at me in a way that, before
overhearing the conversation between her and my brother, would have made me
fall to my knees and give her anything she wanted. Now, I just wanted her out
of my sight until dinner. "I'll be there. And I'll dress nicely."
"You always
do," I said as I turned to my computer and saw a host of messages waiting
in my inbox. "Right now, I need to get back to work and make sure this
business is running smoothly. Then I need to go check the warehouse and talk
with Leah."
"Ah yes, your
little assistant," Sloan said dismissively. "Be careful. I think
she's got a crush on you, Jack."
"Oh, you
think so?" I said as I feigned total disinterest. "Hey, do you have
your orders from this week written up yet?"
"No, but I'm
sure your secretary will be chomping at the bit as soon as I open that
door," she said rolling her eyes. "I'll take care of them."
"Good,
good," I said waving a hand in her direction to get her to leave. What I
really wanted to do was sit her down and grill her about what she'd said about
Leah, but I didn't want to tip my hand and doing that definitely would have.
I had two more
calls to make before I headed down to meet with Leah. I picked up the phone
hoping that, once I was finished, I'd have good news for her.
CHAPTER
FORTY-TWO
After
Sloan dropped her bomb and walked out of my office, I sat staring at the door
in silence. There was no way to deny the fact that I didn't come from the right
side of the city, and that if Jack was messing around with me, it wasn't
anything serious. The advice Molly had given me had only applied to boys who
were from our side of town. Trying to apply it to someone like Jack was bound
to end in heartbreak—at least for me.
I took the day's
orders out to the warehouse floor where Burt and the guys were gathered in
preparation for their first full day in the newly renovated warehouse. We’d
managed to build the additional space necessary to hold the increased inventory
by building storage shelves that could be accessed via overhead catwalks. It
was a simple design often used by department stores that allowed workers to
climb a set of metal stairs on either side of the platform and access the
inventory kept on the second level. We’d had a lift installed on one end so
that groups of orders could be quickly brought to the main floor. It had been a
quick installation, but I knew it would be highly effective if we could figure
out an efficient method of retrieving products.
The construction
crew was cleaning up their mess and gathering the left over materials that hadn't
been needed as I stood in front of the guys and discussed how we needed to
become more efficient now that we were going to have a substantially increased
inventory.
"If we
stagger the shifts so that we never have down time, then this will fill in the gaps
until we figure out how to compensate," I said looking at the schedules in
my hand. "Who wants to volunteer?"
"Eh, I'll do
it," Burt said raising his hand. "Why not? I'll be in at five to
unload the deliveries. Who’s going to join me?"
A few of the other
guys raised their hands and followed Burt's lead. I gave him a grateful smile,
knowing that he was not a morning person, but that he was willing to sacrifice
in order to keep the warehouse running smoothly. I was also grateful I didn’t
have to cajole him into doing it because there was no way I could explain how
critical it was that we make this work without giving away Jack's plan.
"I'll be
coming in at six-thirty to make sure that all of the orders are in and that
we've got the pickups scheduled," I said. "We might need to hire a
couple more warehouse workers, but don't count on it happening until we see how
the switch goes."
"Isn't that
ass backward, Leah?" Burt asked with a grin. "I mean, shouldn't we
have help getting this thing off the ground rather than trying to launch it and
then hire more people?"
"One would
think," I said, returning his grin. "But this is how it's going to go
for now, so get used to it, and don't make me crack the whip."
There were some
wolf whistles and laughter at Burt's expense, and then we broke up to start the
day. I handed Burt the morning's orders and told him that I was running out to
take care of something.
"Where you
going?" he asked seeing the tense look on my face.
"I need to go
home and take care of a couple of things," I said grimly. "They can't
wait."
"I got it
under control, Leah," he said patting my shoulder like I was one of the
guys. "No worries."
I nodded and
headed to my office to grab my purse and call a cab. I was pretty sure Jimmy
was outside waiting, but I wasn't sure what Jack's schedule was for the day.
Besides, I didn't want him to know what I was doing.
*
I
called Patrick
from the cab and asked him to meet me at the house so we could talk about what
we were going to do with Mama's things. He grudgingly agreed and said he'd be
there as soon as he could.
After the taxi
drove away, I stood staring at the charred remains of what had been my home for
almost my entire life. There was a ‘For Sale’ sign on the front lawn with the
name and number of a realtor I didn't recognize. The fire department had done
what they could to clean up the mess, and Patrick had had a company install
boards over the broken windows, making the house look abandoned.
Patrick arrived a
few minutes later and together we entered the house. It was pitch black inside,
so we left the front door open to let in some light.
"I don't know
that anything's salvageable," Patrick said as he walked through the burned
out living room.
"Not in the
front room, but the rest of the house wasn't burned," I said a little
defensively. "Let's check her room and see."
"Leah, you do
understand that the whole house was affected, don't you?" he said in a
condescending tone that put me on edge.
"Of course, I
do," I muttered. "I'm not stupid, you know."
"I didn't say
you were," he replied as we climbed the soot covered stairway.
I peeked into my
bedroom and quickly realized that the damage to the house was far more
extensive than I'd imagined. The firefighters had sprayed the entire house with
water and had pulled apart the walls in my room and Riley's room, the ones over
the living room and closest to the actual blaze. My closet was now a wet mass
that contained the beginnings of mold and rot, and it stunk terribly. I knew I
wouldn't be able to recover much from the mess. I took a deep breath, opened
the top drawer of my dresser, and pulled out the small metal box I kept a few
keepsakes in. I tucked it into my purse.
I checked Riley's
room and found it in a similar condition. I opened her dresser drawers to see
if she'd kept anything like I had and found nothing but a small pillbox that
contained an old high school photo of Molly and a locket that she'd worn when
she was a kid. I tucked it in my purse and followed Patrick down the hall to
Mama's room.
Light streamed in
from a window that hadn't been broken and combined with the water that had
flooded everything it made the room seem even dingier and more of a dump than
I'd remembered. I told myself that living at Betty's house was the reason all
of this seemed worse, but I didn't believe the lie.
"Do you think
Mama wants any of this?" Patrick asked as he kicked a pile of clothing
that lay on the floor. "What a dump."
"Shut
up," I said as I looked around. "You got out, so just shut up."
"What? You
think it didn't affect me?" he shot back suddenly hostile and angry.
"You think that just because I left, I forgot what it was like living with
… her?"
"No, I don't
think you forgot, I think you just put us out of your mind and moved on!"
I shouted. "Quit acting like you're the only one who was affected by all
of this, Patrick. You might be a priest, but you make a lousy martyr."
"That's what
you think I'm aiming for?" he said staring at me in disbelief. "You
think I want to be a martyr? Well, let me tell you something, little sister, I
never ever wanted to be a martyr. I think that was your goal."
"What the
hell is wrong with you?" I shouted. "I'm the one who stayed!"
"My point
exactly," he said looking away. "You stayed and tried to fix
everything, but instead you made it all worse."
"I made it
worse? How in the hell did I make anything worse than it already was?" I
yelled. "You walked away and left us behind! You just checked out of the
family and left me to clean up the mess that was left! You are my older
brother! You were supposed to protect me!"
"I know, and
I'm sorry that I didn’t do that," he said bowing his head. "But I
didn't know how else to survive."
Patrick looked at
me with tears welling up in his eyes. I shook my head, trying to maintain my
self-righteous anger so that I wouldn't go down the path that would invariably
lead to self-pity and sadness. I was angry at him for leaving me alone with
Mama.
"Leah, I
didn't know how I could survive if I stayed here," he said quietly.
"She hates me. She's always hated me."
"Mama does
not hate you," I said.
"Yeah, she
does," he nodded. "She told me so. Numerous times. She said I remind
her of him and that she hates us both."
"Patrick,
that's crazy talk," I said waving him off, but knowing deep down that he
was right. Mama hated our father more than anyone on earth, and she had been
very vocal about that fact all our lives. He'd abandoned the family and then
died before he had a chance to find peace.
"It's not
crazy talk, Leah," he said as he dug through the closet looking for
anything that might be salvageable. "It is what it is. I've accepted it,
and I've moved forward with my life. I found peace in the priesthood, and I'd
advise you to move forward with your life, too. Don't you want something more
than just scraping by?"
"Of course I
do," I said, coming dangerously close to spilling my feelings about Jack.
"I just haven't met anyone who I like enough to consider making a life
with. Besides, I'm busy raising a twelve-year-old, in case you didn't
know."
"I
know," Patrick said quietly. "I'm sorry I left you to raise her all
alone."
"You did what
you had to do," I said, steeling myself against the feelings that
threatened to overwhelm me.
"I miss her,
too, Leah," Patrick said as he moved across the room and stood holding his
arms open to me. I bit my lip, and then burst into tears as I fell into my
brother's embrace. He patted my head as I sobbed, "I know, I know. Let it
out."
"I miss her
so much, Paddy," I said calling him by his childhood nickname. "I
don't know what to tell Riley, and I want to know what happened to her! Where
did she go? Is she still alive? Did she just forget about us?"
"I know,
Leah," he said as he rocked me like a baby. "For years I've tried to
track her down, but she didn't leave much of a trail. The detective I hired
said that when the trail goes cold, it's usually because someone is dead."
"I know she's
probably dead," I choked out. "But I just want to know for sure. I
want to know what happened so I can move on. I'm sick of looking over my
shoulder and scanning every face in the crowd for Molly."
"I don't know
what to tell you, Sis," he said taking a hold of my shoulders and pushing
me away so that he could look at my face. "But we're the only ones left,
and Mama needs some serious care. She's a mess."
"It's my
fault," I said starting to cry again. "I let her get away with it
because I was too tired from working and keeping up with Riley and the house. I
should have stopped her. I should have gotten her help, but she was so angry,
Patrick."
"It's not
your fault, Leah," he said sternly. "Mama made her own choices, and
one of them was to keep drinking. That's not your fault or your responsibility.
It took me many years of therapy to understand that I wasn't responsible for
her hatred or for her choice of how to work out her own pain. She had choices,
Leah. There are always choices."
I nodded as I
cried against his shoulder and he simply wrapped his arms around me and patted
my back until I had cried myself out. When I was done, I stepped back and
looked at the bedroom. It was a disaster, and there was no way we were going to
salvage anything.
"Look in the
drawers and see if there's anything she might want to keep," I said.
"Tomorrow I'm calling the guys who haul junk and have them clean this
place out before we try to sell it."
"I forgot to
tell you," Patrick said as he dug through Mama's nightstand and tossed out
old magazines and romance novels she'd kept stashed in the drawer. "We've
had an offer on the house. The realtor called and said a buyer saw the
pre-listing she sent out and offered the full price, sight unseen."
"You're
kidding me, right?" I said as I pulled open the dresser drawers and tossed
out clothing that my mother hadn't worn in twenty years. "Jesus, she's a
pack rat."
"Leah …"
Patrick said.
"I'm sorry, I
didn't mean to offend you," I said rolling my eyes with my back turned to
him again. "But seriously, Patrick, she kept so much stuff!"
"No, Leah
…" he said again. This time I turned around to see that he was standing in
the middle of the room holding a handful of what looked like envelopes.
"She wrote her."
"Who wrote who?"
I said, not understanding what he was talking about.
"These are
all from Molly," he said. "She wrote Mama."
"What?"
I said not sure I was hearing him correctly.
"These
letters are from Molly, Leah," he said as he dropped them on the bed and
began looking through them to find the most recent postmark. "They started
right after she left, and they seem to end a year later."
"That would
be two years ago," I said, excited that maybe they would lead us to our
missing sister. "Where is she?"