Gotcha! (23 page)

At that moment, though, she needed to get back home. She would grieve for Mace Carlisle when all her other affairs were taken care of. The most important thing was that she’d told Oliver Goldfeld she didn’t want Mace’s estate.
That,
he would have to deal with. What she had to deal with was the fact that Mace and their kiss didn’t mean what she thought it had meant at the time. If he thought it meant more than it had, and left her his estate because of it, then Goldfeld was right; she’d deceived Mace. But at the moment it happened, it was what it was. On Mace’s return, she would have come to her senses and explained that they just got caught up in the moment before his departure.

She couldn’t worry about any of that now. Now, she had to think of her granddaughter and what was going to go down in the coming hours. She was going to be raising a child again, something she was meant to do. She didn’t have time for wills and probate and a lawyer who thought she was some kind of cheat. Sugar and spice and everything nice. Not. At least in Oliver Goldfeld’s eyes. Like she was really going to return Lola to him. Not in this lifetime or the next. No way, no how. Lola was hers. Possession was nine points of the law. Wasn’t it?

 

 

Back on the front porch of the dump he had just purchased, Oliver Goldfeld stared down the long driveway. “Sugar and spice and everything nice, my ass,” he muttered as he tossed the chunk of wood from the broken step out into the yard. “Damn it, Mace, I told you it was a mistake. She’s not who you thought she was. Did you listen to me? Hell, no, you didn’t, and now I have to deal with
that woman.
Now I have to go in there and eat those shitty eggs your lady friend
almost
cooked for me.”

Oliver wasn’t sure, but he thought he could hear Mace laughing at him as he let the screen door smack him in the rear end.

T
he house was so quiet, Julie was frightened. Five men in her upstairs, and she felt fear. It didn’t compute. She looked at the clock. It was ten minutes past one in the morning. She’d been sitting here for over an hour watching the clock count down the time. She stood up and looked through the kitchen cutout leading into the sunroom. Gracie and Lola were sleeping nose to nose. Cooper was nowhere in sight. That’s what was bothering her more than the episode with Oliver Goldfeld. Cooper and his toys were in the bedroom where Harry Wong was sleeping. Her eyes burned. She knew as sure as she was sitting there that Cooper was lost to her. The lump in her throat was so huge, she could barely breathe.

Julie looked down into her teacup, wishing she could read tea leaves. How many cups had she consumed so far this evening? Four was the number she came up with. There was no way she was going to be able to sleep, so she poured another cup of tea, finishing the pot, and carried it out to the dark front veranda, where she settled herself in her favorite rocker. She turned on the paddle fans to stir the air. Even in the dark, she could see the fern fronds dancing in the breeze the fans created. She had so many memories here on this veranda, most of them good, a few bad.

She thought about Larry then, the way she always thought about Larry. And after Audrey had died, how many times had she sat out here with him and Ollie and had tea parties? Too many to count. They had taught Ollie how to play checkers out here on rainy days. Larry. Larry. Larry. It always came down to Larry. She cried at her failure, hoping Larry understood. Now, tomorrow, maybe the tide would turn, and she would really have Ollie back where she belonged, in a loving home. Maybe then Larry would forgive her. Maybe. But what if Larry didn’t approve of her methods? Would the end justify the means? She sure hoped so.

Julie closed her eyes and let her mind wander. She’d wake up Ollie in the mornings, the way she always woke up her own kids. She’d make sure she had a pretty outfit for school, which she would lay out the night before. She’d make sure she showered and washed her hair with soap and shampoo befitting a little girl. She’d have breakfast ready so they didn’t have to rush. Ollie loved pancakes and waffles cut into star patterns. And she adored Julie’s homemade syrup. She’d have her lunch money and her book bag on the counter ready to go.

They’d never be late to school, because punctuality was a trait of hers. They would talk about her classes for the day, discuss her homework on the ride to school. Then she’d drop her off, kiss her good-bye, and pick her up again at two o’clock. They’d come home, have a snack. Then Ollie would play and romp with the dogs, play in her newly decorated room. Then they would do homework and have dinner. Dinner over, the two of them would cuddle on the sofa so that Ollie could begin the healing and bonding process.

There was not going to be any room in Julie’s life for lotteries or pharmaceutical companies, and everything that went with that. Ollie had to come first. She was going to need friends, activities, when she felt secure. That was going to take some doing. But with the girls’ help, she knew she could make it all happen, and Ollie would be right where her real mother and father would have wanted her to be. Life would be so good. So right.

Julie set her teacup on the floor, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes. Was Ollie sleeping peacefully? What was she dreaming about? Did she cry herself to sleep with no one to comfort her the way she’d told the twins she did?

Three blocks away, in her darkened bedroom, Olivia Wyatt covered her ears so she wouldn’t have to hear Adam and Darlene screaming at each other. She looked up at the little clock on her night table. The red letters said it was one o’clock in the morning. She crept from her bed on tiptoe and walked over to her closet and her hidey-hole, the feather from her Crayola box in her hand. She didn’t have a pillow, so she used the blanket from her bed. She tried not to look at the pile of stuff Darlene had destroyed. Now her little corner was bare. She curled into a ball and whimpered, the feather held close to her chest. “Please, Daddy, help me. Grandma said she’s going to get me out of here. Can you help her?”

“Oh, Daddy, you came. I miss you. I miss you so much. Is it true? Is Grandma going to come for me?”

Ollie, remember what I said to you? When you need me, just call my name. Yes, it’s true. When you wake up in the morning, your aunts will come and get you. You have to be ready. I always keep my promises, Ollie, you know that. I want to tell you something, and I want you to remember it so you can tell Grandma
.
Can you do that?

“Daddy, I’m a big girl. I can remember. What is it you want me to remember?”

“Yes, I can remember. What kind of job, Daddy? What if Grandma asks me, and I don’t have the answer?”

“What will Adam and Darlene do when I go with Grandma?”

“If I can stay with Grandma and Connie and Carrie, I’ll be okay, Daddy. I can’t tell you a lie. I won’t miss Darlene. Where are they going, Daddy?”

“Okay, Daddy. Maybe I won’t miss them. It’s not nice to say bad things about people. Darlene never hugs me, Daddy. All she does is chase me away. Darlene is so mean to me, she makes me cry. I try not to cry, Daddy, but I do. She pulls my hair, slaps me, and makes fun of me. She calls me bad names. I don’t like it here any more.”

Across the hall and down two doors, Darlene and her boyfriend were punching and jabbing each other as they cursed and bellowed.

“I told you that little snot ripped up the pillows and shoved them in her closet. Did you do anything? No! All you do is yell and scream at me. You’re no man! You’re a loser! I must have been out of my mind to get mixed up with someone like you.”

“Shut up before the neighbors call the cops. The whole world can hear your screeching.
You
cut up those pillows. I know you did it. Why do you hate Olivia? She’s just a kid, for God’s sake.”

“Because she looks like Larry’s first wife, that’s why. Every time I look at her, I see his wife. Pretty, perfect, prissy Audrey. The wife who did everything right. She ironed his shirts, loved him, cooked for him, gave him a daughter.”

“But Larry couldn’t give you what you wanted and got from me. You let him die because you’re a greedy bitch. Well, look at you now! Just walk over to that mirror and take a good look at what a loser looks like. That’s you, all right. Little Miss Perfect might be dead, but she beat you in the end. You got squat, hotshot. You’re going to go back to your roots, that run-down tenement where you were spawned. Then again, you won’t even be able to afford that; you’ll be living in a damned tent and pissing in the gutter. Which is where you belong.” Darlene ducked the blow coming her way and bolted from the room to run downstairs, Adam following her. Darlene locked herself in the downstairs bathroom.

Adam didn’t feel like breaking down the door.
Let her sleep in the tub for all I care.
He opened the refrigerator and looked for a bottle of beer. There was none, so he made coffee. He sat at the table while the coffee dripped into the pot. He was forty-seven years old and had never, ever, been this miserable in his whole life. His whole life, what there was of it, was crashing down right in front of his very eyes. Thank you, Julie Wyatt.

Adam longed for a crystal ball, so he could see what the future held for him. Then again, did he really want to know? He was tempted to get on his motorcycle and ride until he ran out of gas.

His own ominous words ricocheted around inside his head. What he had said to Darlene applied to him as well. He was going to have to go back to tenement living, too. He cringed.

Hunkered down and cowering in the bathroom, Darlene thought then about the good life she’d had with Larry and how she had screwed it up. She was smart enough at that minute to know and realize she would never have that again, not ever again. She’d had the perfect life, and she alone had screwed it up. And for what? That degenerate she’d hooked up with? She thought about Olivia then and what a miserable mother she’d been to her ever since Larry’s death. Guilty! Guilty! She hadn’t done one damned thing right since Larry’s death.

Adam poured coffee, even though he didn’t really want it. He’d never be able to sleep if he drank it. What else was new? He hadn’t really slept in days, not since Darlene had gone to Starbucks for coffee and her debit card had been declined. He laid his head down on the table and was asleep within minutes.

 

 

Adam woke when he heard the bathroom door open. He was too tired to care if Darlene came out of the bathroom or not. He squinted at the clock on the stove: 6:20. He couldn’t believe he’d actually slept. Well, he needed to believe it, because his neck was stiff as a board. He felt like he was eighty years old when he started upstairs to take a shower. Every bone in his body ached.

As he walked down the hall, Adam noticed that the door to Olivia’s room was open. He looked inside, expecting to see her fast asleep in her bed. He was only half right. She was on her bed, but she wasn’t sleeping. She was dressed, her hair combed and her Little Mermaid suitcase with the handle sitting at her feet. He blinked. He positioned himself in the doorway so he could lean up against the frame to support his aching body. “You going somewhere, Olivia? It’s only six thirty.”

Olivia thought about the question. Her father hadn’t told her it was a secret. And she’d learned in school that you should never tell lies to anyone. “I’m going to Grandma’s house when Connie and Carrie come to pick me up.”

“No, you’re not going there. If those crazy aunts of yours told you that, then they lied to you. You’re not going anywhere.”

“I am, Adam. Connie and Carrie didn’t tell me. Daddy told me. He said I had to get up early and be ready to go with them to Grandma’s when they came to pick me up. There is something very important that I have to tell Grandma. I’m ready.”

“That was a dream, Olivia. Now, unpack your bag. I’m going to take a shower; and then, if you’re good, I’ll take you and Darlene to Perkins for breakfast.”

“I don’t want to go to Perkins, and I don’t want to ride on your motorcycle. You have to get ready, also. Daddy said you and Darlene are going away, too. He said you aren’t going to come back. I’m never going to see you again. Well, maybe I will when I’m big like Connie and Carrie.”

“You need to stop with this crap, Olivia. You just had a bad dream. I’m not going anywhere, and neither is Darlene.”

“Yes you are, Adam. Daddy said so, and fathers don’t lie to their children.”

“Olivia, your father’s dead. It was a dream. Now do what I tell you.”

Olivia’s face turned stubborn. “I have to do what Daddy said. If you don’t believe me, look at this. He stayed with me last night. Darlene ripped up my pillows, and Daddy didn’t want me to sleep on the bare floor, so he put all the feathers from his angel wings on the floor for a bed for me. See, Adam?”

Adam looked into the closet and almost blacked out. “Those are feathers from the pillows, Olivia. You had me going there for a minute.”

“No, Adam, Darlene is allergic to feathers. She threw out all the old feather pillows and bought the foam ones, like the ones she ripped up. She said that feathers make her sneeze.”

Adam grew light-headed. He did remember Darlene spending over $400 on new pillows.

Olivia skipped back to her bed, where she sat down primly, her hands folded in her lap. “Where are you and Darlene going, Adam?”

“I told you. We aren’t going anywhere.”

“Daddy said you are. He said you and Darlene are going to spend forever wishing you had been nice to me. If you send me a postcard, you have to send it to Grandma’s house, because that’s where I’ll be living. But I don’t want a postcard.”