Foolish Notions (4 page)

As James watched Ginger meticulously
sweep the dining area, it dawned on him how much they had really
gotten to know one another over the last year. Ginger was more than
just a housekeeper, she was a friend. When she had found out Marie
was sick she started to come in an extra day a week. Fortunately, she
usually brought a little something to eat, too. “I think it’s
a little of both of us. We can’t seem to agree on a nurse.”

“The two of you are too much
alike.” She bent to sweep a pile of dirt into a dustpan.
“You’ll agree.”

James made a grunting sound.

Ginger looked up and eyed him. “You
will.” She stood and moved to the trashcan. “And when you
do, everything will work out. You’ll see.”

“We have one more nurse coming
today. My mom will do the interview. Her name is Samantha. She should
be here around noon.” He took the tray on the counter. “I’m
going to take this up.”

* * * * *

“Good morning.” James
handed Marie the paper he had already read and neatly refolded. When
she tucked it under her arm, he set the tray across her lap.

“Thank you,” Marie said as
she viewed the tray. “What would I do without you?”

The question was, what would he do
without her? That was something he would not allow himself to think
about. If he did, it would be like he was admitting she wasn’t
going to make it.

“You’ll never have to find
that out.”

She smiled tenderly at him.

“Sleep well?”

“Yes. It’s the first time
in days that I’ve been able to sleep through the entire night.”
She stretched her arms over her head and looked out the window. The
morning sun cast warm golden light into the room, highlighting
particles of dust and lint, which appeared to float weightlessly
through the air in all directions. “It must be the beautiful
weather.”

“You look good.” He wasn’t
just saying it to encourage her, either. Her cheeks held a hint of
soft, pale pink. He noticed how her blue eyes had flickered
brightly—with mischief—when he had leaned over and set
the tray across her lap. She must have gotten up early, because her
hair was neatly combed and she wore a matching jogging suit instead
of her nightdress.

“I feel good,” she added.
“I think that was all I needed, a good night’s rest.”

“No pain?” He moved to the
window and cracked it open to allow the richly scented breeze in.

“Just a little. Nothing to worry
about.” She nibbled on a piece of toast.

“I can get you something.”
He turned toward the bathroom.

“I don’t need anything. I’m
fine, really.” When he stopped, she smiled at him. “Nothing
I can’t handle. Besides, I’m not going to pop a pill
every time I feel a little twinge.”

James took a seat in a Victorian floral
tapestry chair, which was only a few feet from the bed. “Ginger
made a loaf of her famous cinnamon bread.” He motioned to her
plate. “It’s delicious toasted. I think I should hire her
as our cook instead of our housekeeper.”

Marie took a bite of the crisp bread.
After she swallowed, she spoke. “This is delightful.”
After a moment she added, “Did you call Samantha last night?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And?”

“She’s coming over sometime
today.”

Dropping the toast, she clasped her
hands together and smiled. “Thank you.”

He lifted a brow. “That doesn’t
mean she’ll be able to take the job.”

“I understand, but it will be
good to see her.”

He looked at his watch. “I need
to go. I have to get in early so Shelly can type up a proposal. The
earlier I get there the happier she will be.” He pushed out of
the chair and kissed her cheek. “Call me if you need anything.
Don’t forget Ginger’s here, too.”

“I’ll be fine.” She
lifted the tray off her lap and set it aside.

“I need to get my lazy butt out
of bed, that’s what I need to do.”

He looked over his shoulder. “Just
don’t overdo it.”

“Have you ever known me to overdo
it?”

James stopped midstride and slowly
turned so his large frame faced into the room. His eyes locked with
his mom’s. By her expression, he knew that she was very aware
of the huge can of worms she had just so unwisely opened. “You
really don’t want me to answer that, do you?” he asked,
as his disdainful gaze challenged her.

She cocked her head hopefully. “Is
that a rhetorical question or an authentic one?”

“Take a guess.”

She looked heavenward, her hands
quickly folding into prayer. Her expression was split between
wholesomeness and sheer determination as she began to speak. “Please,
Lord, have mercy on me and I’ll never ask that question ever
again nor will I ever—ever—”

“Don’t bring the Lord into
this.” He watched her wince when he interrupted her prayer.

“He’s the only one who can
save me now.”

“Perhaps. However, I have a
feeling you’re about to make a promise you can’t keep,”
he said dryly.

Marie drew her eyes from the ceiling to
glance at him. “Oh, I’ll keep it if the good Lord spares
me this conversation.”

“You will not be saved today,
Mom,” James said as he moved back into the room. “Let’s
see, where shall I start?” His finger popped in the air
suddenly. “Let’s start when I was six and I had the
chicken pox and wasn’t able to go see Santa at the mall.”

“Must we really do this?”
Giving up on the prayer, Marie found her way back to the edge of the
bed and let out a long breath as she sat. “I’m beginning
to feel tired.”

“I bet you are.” He watched
her take the coffee from the tray and sip it slowly. “You
brought Santa home.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Naturally,
you start with the Santa story—”

“I start with the Santa story
because—”

“I know, I know. Because,
according to you, it’s the most traumatizing of all the things
that I’ve done.” She thought for a moment. “I
didn’t want you to be disappointed. Besides, it’s what
any good mom would have done.”

His eyes widened, and when he spoke his
voice was an octave higher than normal. “But you reconstructed
the entire wonderland in the living room and Santa’s workshop
in the dining room.”

Marie nodded and smiled at the same
time. “It was magnificent wasn’t it?”

“Mom—”

“You were surprised when you came
downstairs, weren’t you?”

“Startled was more like it.”

She waved a hand at him. “Oh,
that was just the fever.”

“Mom, there were reindeer in the
kitchen.”

Marie shook her head in objection.
“Don’t exaggerate. There was only one reindeer and it was
supposed to be Rudolph.” The delight on her face grew as she
thought about it. “In retrospect he should have remained
outside on the deck. And that red nose wasn’t a very good idea
either.” She took another sip of her coffee. “I should
have listened to your dad on that one.” She looked up at James
and smiled. “Live and learn.”

James’s eyes narrowed in
disbelief. “And you see nothing wrong with that. You don’t
feel that’s overdoing it just a tad?”

“Nope.”

He watched her for a moment, wondering
if his mom was truly a sane woman. “Do you know any other
mothers who did anything like that?”

“Nope, but that doesn’t
prove anything.”

“It proved everything,” he
snapped. “It proves that no one is crazy enough—”

“Crazy? That’s a little
extreme.” She pointed a finger at him. “I like to call it
creative, not crazy.”

“What about the time—”

Marie lifted her hands helplessly.
“Will I be tortured for the rest of my life just because I
tried to be a good mother?”

James shot her a look. “I don’t
believe you’re the one who was tortured.”

“You know, you don’t always
have to be right.”

“But I am right about this.”
James paused for an instant.

Someday, he swore to himself, he would
make her see how crazy all of it was. “On my tenth birthday,
when I requested a cowboy theme, reconstructing the Bonanza set was
going overboard.”

“Maybe, but you had a great
time.”

“There was a blacksmith in our
back yard.” He could do nothing but walk out of the room when
he heard her gleefully go into detail of how the horse corral had
been created.

“It’s not like I committed
a crime,” she called out to him as he went down the stairs.
“And if I’m so crazy then why did all your friends want
to stay the night at our house?”

* * * * *

James smacked his hand against his desk
as he looked over to his vice-president, Raymond Stewart. “Goddamn
it, I took special security measures to ensure our competitors didn’t
find out about this.” He shoved away from his desk suddenly.
“Shit.”

He began pacing in front of a large row
of windows that stretched from floor to ceiling. Reaching his hand
around the back of his neck, he rubbed the stiff area. Being the CEO
of a major consumer electronics company was a curse sometimes.
Currently, his company was working on secretive new technology that,
once launched, would not only change the face of the industry but
also double his company’s revenue base. A situation like this
could be catastrophic depending on how much information was leaked.
“How the hell did this happen?”

Raymond shook his head as he sat calmly
on the edge of the chair opposite the desk. “I’m not
sure. I’ve got a hunch that it’s from within.”

James turned and stared at him.

“Security is so tight, it makes
the most sense,” Raymond added.

“It can’t be from within.
None of our employees would leak the information.”

“If they were paid enough, they
would.”

James pinched the bridge of his nose,
not even wanting to consider the thought.

“Perhaps it’s one of the
senior managers.”

“A senior manager?” James
went down a mental list of managers and couldn’t fathom any of
them selling company secrets. He not only treated his employees well,
he paid them well, too. “I don’t see that happening.”

Raymond propped his elbows on the sides
of the chair and stared at his boss.

“I think it’s more
plausible that ISAC hired an investigator.”

James’s hand shot out in air.
“Hell, we know a lot of corporate espionage is done by
professional investigators who specialize in it.”

Raymond sucked in a long breath.
“True.”

There had always been competition
between ISAC and his company. But James had believed it to be healthy
and fair. Perhaps he was mistaken. “Now that I think about it,
I wouldn’t put it past McDonald.” McDonald was the CEO of
ISAC. He had an unbridled rivalry with James. But James thought the
rivalry was completely normal, and even valuable, because it fueled
motivation and diversity between the two.

“The man has absolutely no
ethics,” Raymond stated firmly.

“You know I’ve always
thought that.”

James knew Raymond didn’t like
the man. McDonald was too brash and cocky for Raymond. “When
we’re back against the wall, we all get down and dirty, too.”

“Not like him. We maintain a
moral code. He doesn’t. What we are releasing is huge. So huge
that I think he’d stoop this low. I think it’s worth
looking into.”

“I agree. But first we need to
see how much information has been leaked.” James turned and
stared out the window.

“What do you want to do?”

“Call Al.”

Raymond’s expression turned to
surprise. “Are you sure?”

James was quiet for a moment and then
nodded. “Yes. I want this over and done with, fast.” He
shook his head. “If they have an excellent investigator on
their side, which I suspect that’s what they have, I want the
best on my side. Al’s the best.

Besides, we’ve worked together
before.”

“Okay, I’ll call.”

James turned. “Keep this between
you and me.”

Raymond stood and walked to the door.
“I’ll let you know when and where we’ll meet.”

Samantha smoothed out her blouse,
tucked her hair behind her ear, took two deep breaths, and knocked on
the door. She quickly stuffed her raised hand into her pocket when
she noticed that it was slightly trembling. She hated being
apprehensive—it made her feel weak and vulnerable. The rolling
in her gut matched the rolling of the ocean’s waves that she
could hear crashing behind the house. She sucked in a few more
breaths, taking command of the emotions running through her. Within a
few seconds she felt a little of her anxiety diminish. Her yoga
instructor would be proud of her. And to think she used to struggle
with the technique. She was confident that over the next hour or so
her relaxation skills would be tested to the limit.

Pulling back her sleeve, she glanced at
her watch. She knew she hadn’t been standing at the door for
more than a few seconds but it felt like an eternity. Time was cruel.
It stood still for things dreaded and flew by for things enjoyed. It
wasn’t fair.

The door swung open suddenly, and
Samantha’s head snapped up. “Hi, I’m Samantha.”
She smiled weakly at the unfamiliar face. “Marie is expecting
me.”

“Yes, she’s been waiting
for you. I’m Ginger,” the woman said as she waved a
friendly hand. “Come on in.”

Samantha nodded and took a cautious
step forward as the woman stepped aside and allowed her in.

“Marie is in the guest room. Up
the stairs and it’s the first door to your left.”

Samantha observed Ginger, whose bright
pink lips offered a surprise flash of color in her otherwise
fair-complexion face. The cheery woman held a feather duster in one
hand and a can of furniture polish in the other. She smiled and
pointed over her shoulder toward the stair.

“Yes, I know the way.” She
didn’t have to be told where the guest room was. She already
knew every room in the house.

Tucking the duster under her arm,
Ginger shifted her weight. Her gum snapped at the back of her mouth
as she slowly nodded. “Holy crap.”