Authors: Lauraine Snelling
“Right now I believe I am in a state of shock and…” And what? She rubbed her forehead with her fingertips. “You are sure all the legalities are satisfied? What if his father…”
“As far as we know, his father died two years ago. Jonah has no one who will rise up out of the woodwork to claim him.”
“And you will now notify, notify…”
“I already have. EMS is on the way.”
“Will they try to—bring her back to life?”
“No. Her condition is known and her death was expected at any time. No heroics.”
Jonah came out with his backpack on. He picked up Mutt’s leash and looked at Dinah.
She studied Jonah a moment, turned, and studied Mr. Jensen.
He grimaced and nodded slightly toward Jonah. “It hasn’t sunk in yet. It will.”
There was polite knock on the door and a young man in midnight blue shirt and trousers entered. He carried a red duffle.
Jonah shook his head. “Mommy doesn’t want them to come. She said.”
Dinah tried to smile and failed. “It’s the law, Jonah. But Mr. Jensen will take over now. It’s all right.”
A second technician entered, a young woman, pushing a gurney ahead of her. Jonah scowled. Mr. Jensen followed them into the bedroom. And here came what was probably the medical examiner or someone similar, an older woman, very thin, with a clipboard.
“Mommy doesn’t want them to…” Jonah’s voice trailed off.
“Mr. Jensen will take care of it. It’s okay.”
Presently, the lawyer came back to the kitchen. “You can go now. We have it covered.”
Dinah understood he was talking about the corpse as well as the situation. She stood up, incredibly weary. “Got everything?”
Jonah nodded and picked up Mutt’s leash. They walked to the car, put his things in the trunk, and climbed in. The sky was lighter, not from just the lights of the city. She checked the clock on the dash. Nearly five a.m. She garaged the car and they trundled up to her apartment, the kibble under her arm so that he could negotiate the stairs more easily.
Dinah nearly choked. Today was Friday. The day of
the interview
. The interview that could make or break her whole world.
Don’t be overly dramatic,
another side of her intoned.
The world will not stop because of an interview.
She kept her outer self in check, acting calm. Inside she screamed.
Not fair. Taking a small boy’s mother! What kind of a God are You, anyway? What happened to grace and mercy? That’s what You say, but that’s not what You do! Just leave me alone. And I’ll leave You alone. Not fair!
M
utt has to go out.”
Dinah turned from her computer and stared at Jonah. “I thought you were still sleeping.” She hadn’t bothered to try. Tired as she was, she had too much going on to let her rest.
“I was, but Mutt has to go out, and I…”
Dinah nodded, thinking fast. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. We’ll go down to the ground floor and out the rear door.” All the while she was thinking, What did the other dog owners in this building do? Did dogs need a grassy spot? “Will that work?”
“I guess. That’s what we did at home.”
“Let me get my keys. By the way, you need a key for the elevator here.”
“Don’t the stairs work?”
“Sure. But Mutt has a hard time with stairs right now, right?”
He nodded.
“Get your jacket.”
He gave her a Jonah version of a rolled-eyes look. “It’s by the door.”
On the main level, they followed the hall to the rear door and stepped outside. The sun hadn’t bothered to come out yet today, because of the rain. And the cold. Winter had returned with a snarl.
Jonah’s windbreaker didn’t do any more than break the wind. He and Mutt walked a couple of paces, she stepped off the concrete walk, did her business, and hurried back to the door, where Dinah had held it slightly open.
“Is that the only jacket you have?”
“With me.”
“You have a heavier one at home, er…”
He nodded. “I like this one better.”
“How about I buy you another Kansas City Royals jacket that’s warmer?”
He shrugged.
Horace Watson stepped out his apartment door. “I see you have a visitor, Ms. Taylor.”
“I do. Jonah Morgan, I want you to meet Mr. Watson, our building manager. If you ever need help, he’s the one you call.” She smiled at the man with a fringe on top.
“I see you like Kansas City Royals.”
Jonah nodded. “My daddy liked them best.”
“Well, I do, too. You ever been to one of their games?”
A head shake. “I sometimes watch the games on television. Do you really take care of this whole building?”
“I do.”
“And the elevator always works?”
Dinah shrugged at the man’s questioning look. “It often didn’t where he lived before.”
“I make sure the elevator always works. You can count on it.”
Jonah nodded as he looked up at the man. “Do you have a dog?”
“No, my two cats would be highly incensed.”
“You mean they don’t like dogs.”
“They
really
don’t like dogs. They sit in the window and
yeoowl
at any dog who passes by. In fact, if I pet your dog…”
“Her name is Mutt.”
Mr. Watson nodded. “If I pet Mutt, my two cats will give me a good sniff test and then hiss.”
“Really?”
“Really. Cats are real smart.”
Jonah shrugged. “Do you know what time it is?”
“Six fifty-five. Why?”
“I gotta get ready for school. Nice to meet you.” Jonah turned toward the elevator and Dinah followed. How was she going to handle this? That led to another question. What would she tell his school? If she was lucky, Corinne would have thought of that, too.
“Jonah, don’t you think it would be a good idea to stay home from school today?”
“Why?”
“Well…”
Because your mother died last night and you are living in a new place and nothing is the same.
“Mommy isn’t here to write a note for me.”
“But, Jonah.” The elevator door slid open.
“Besides, I have a spelling test today.”
Homework. She hadn’t thought of homework, either. She hadn’t thought of a lot of things, all of which seemed to be yammering for attention right now. Perhaps it would be best to let him go on to school, keep life as near normal as possible.
A copout; you just want to get to work.
“Tell you what. You get ready for school, I’ll get ready for work, and we’ll eat at the Extraburger.”
“Like we do?”
“Yes. However, Mutt will have to stay here. She can’t get around well with that cone on her neck.”
“By herself?”
Dinah stared from the dog to Jonah. Jonah who hardly slept last night, who was now living in a new place, had a whole new life, and what could she tell him?
Think, Dinah. You are known for your ability to think on your feet, now do so.
They returned to the apartment.
“Well, she can’t go to school with you.”
He looked around at the white world. “What if she has an accident in the house?”
“Has she ever had an accident?”
“Not since she was little but…” He chewed his bottom lip. “She wasn’t hurt before, either.”
You should pick him up today.
But the last time she did that, things didn’t go well.
So many things to think about, and she had an interview to prepare for. “You get ready and we’ll talk about this on our way to the Extraburger.”
Dinah kept the
Don’t think
command at the front of her mind as she dressed in a men’s-wool-suiting, warm, white three-button jacket with matching slacks. She filled in the neckline with a scarf in hues of violet, magenta, and deep blue. Silver loop earrings and an etched silver bracelet finished the ensemble. She stared in the mirror. She would need to do heavier makeup for the camera, but that would be last minute. She looked pretty bleary. Two-inch heels; she refused to wear trendy shoes after a chiropractor warned her that shoes like those were helping keep bone and muscle people in business.
Jonah waited patiently on the sofa, backpack at his feet and dog halfway in his lap. He kissed the top of her head, promised Mutt he would come back after school, and said sorry she couldn’t go along today, but soon. She followed him to the door but didn’t try to go out.
Dinah locked the deadbolt behind them and they took the elevator down to the lobby. Dinah wanted to reach out and set Jonah’s cap straight, but he always wore the bill sideways and she figured he had a reason. Probably something his dad did. Would he ever talk about his father?
Jonah looked up at her. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Letting Mutt sleep with me on the sofa last night.”
“You are welcome. This weekend we’ll get a bed for you.”
“We could go to my house and get my bed from there.”
“That’s true. We could.” A blast of wind bit them as they rounded the corner to the Extraburger. At least it hadn’t started raining again.
Maybe, should have, what if,
all bombarded her if she allowed herself to think of anything other than the coming interview. Preparing for that kept her mind occupied enough that she could fend off more personal things. Like a little boy and his dog now living with her.
“The usual?” Tattoo asked.
“Yes, please.” Dinah paused. “What is your name? As long as we’ve been coming here I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Eric, Ms. Dinah.” His neck pinked. “Where’s your dog, Jonah?”
“She stayed home today.”
“Strange to see you without her.”
“Some other dogs beat her up and the vet said she should be quiet for a while.”
He frowned. “She gonna be okay?”
Jonah nodded.
“Glad to hear that. I’ll bring your order to your table.”
“Thank you.”
Breakfast as usual. Had last night really happened, or was she still walking around in some dream world? Jonah ate, thanked her, and left as usual. She went upstairs to her offices as usual.
April smiled as she entered. And the usualness ended.
“Jonah’s mother died early this morning.”
April sucked in air. “I’m so sorry. You didn’t get much sleep, did you? How is Jonah? Want to cancel the interview?”
“I was thinking about it, but no. I just want to get it over with.”
“So that explains the lawyer’s call. A Mr. Jensen.” April handed her half a dozen orange slips.
Dinah nodded. Coffee in hand, she headed to her office.
Last night was real. Her lack of sleep was real. The coming interview was going to be on her before she had time to finish her coffee. Too real.
She tapped in the number on an orange slip and hit the speaker. “Mr. Jensen? This is Dinah Taylor. You left me a message.”
“Thank you, Dinah. I just want you to know that everything has been taken care of. Corinne did not want to put Jonah through a funeral, but I think it wise if we have a bit of a gathering with their neighbors and some folks from their church. People talking about how much Corinne meant to them.”
“I value your judgment, and I agree, Jonah ought to have some sort of closure. But I’d like to run any plans past him first.”
“As you wish. We’ve arranged to have the condo cleaned and painted and put up for sale. I will have Jonah’s things delivered in the next couple of days. If he asks for anything, we will get it to him. All his mother’s keepsakes and the pictures on the walls will be boxed in case he wants them someday.”
“He was asking about his bed. I don’t have a second bedroom.” At least until she could get her home office rearranged for his bed and things. What all did a small boy need?
“I’ll see about it.”
“And he wanted to go to school today as usual, so I let him. Apparently he has a spelling test.”
A brief silence. Then, “Keeping things as normal and routine as possible may be the best policy. My assistant has already informed the school about his mother and that you are
in loco parentis
. She’s taking the school some papers with Corinne’s signature to confirm it. There shouldn’t be any problem.”
Well, there was a problem once. I wonder if the police still consider me a pervert.
Another rush of panic swept over her briefly. This was all so weirdly weird.
The deep voice spoke gently. “If you have any questions at all, please feel free to call.”
“Thank you. Please keep me informed.” Staying in professional mode could cover a hundred feelings. Is that what Jonah did, bury his feelings? Stay analytical? Go on as normal? The former normal would never return, not for either of them.
They goodbyed. Silence. She dropped the orange slip in the wastebasket and looked at the next one. Maybe normal and routine was the best for Dinah, too. Keep her occupied, lest she realize the enormity of what had been dumped on her.
April rapped and entered. “They’ll be setting up the video equipment, and the interviewers are to arrive at twelve thirty. You don’t need to see them until ten minutes before it starts, if you don’t want to. No gracious host or any such thing. Hal said to remind you this will probably be an adversarial interview. He says he will be here at noon.”
“Sounds good.”
April left.
Dinah had just enough spare time to sit down and sprawl out in her chair, shut her eyes, and take a series of deep breaths, exhaling all the tension away. At least that was the way it was supposed to work. This time it didn’t, of course.
A gentle rap on the door; “Time,” April called softly.
On one more exhale, Dinah opened her eyes. “Makeup time.” By habit, Dinah did her own makeup rather than bringing someone in. It was rare that she needed powder and paint; her only public appearances, usually, were product rollouts.
With moments to spare, April and she made their way to the conference room, now set up with five comfortable chairs and a low table with several pots of blooming tulips and daffodils. A display of the company products took over one corner of the room; the lighting could have been adjusted a little better—the right-hand side looked a bit dark.
Two cameras on wheels and one on the photographer’s shoulder seemed like overkill to Dinah. The conference table had been shoved back against the wall; only the dents in the carpet from its heavy feet marked where it had stood. This did not at all look like her conference room anymore, and that put her off balance a bit. So did the one reporter’s appearance. She was an older woman, toothpick slim, with professional hair and makeup. Watching her, Dinah felt somewhat frumpy. The other woman, the expert, Dinah assumed, was not so obviously manicured for the camera. But she was prim, straight-backed, with a grim, no-nonsense set to her chin and horn-rimmed glasses. Seated casually in the middle chair was a third reporter, an august-looking gentleman with graying sideburns. He, too, was impeccably dressed and made up. A second reporter?
“Oh, there you are.” The older woman looked at Dinah. “I was beginning to wonder. You’ll sit here.” She waved a hand. “Pete and Marty will sit there”—she waved again—“and your moderator can have that chair.”
Dinah might as well throw down the gauntlet right away. “I asked for one reporter and subsequently acquiesced to a photographer and expert.”
She frowned. “Obviously, your people failed to brief you. Pete and I will be asking the questions. Marty is our expert adviser. I hope you don’t try to snow us with a lot of scientific blather; Marty knows biochemistry and physiology better than you do.”
Dinah felt her face flush hot, but she let the snub go, for now, and crossed to the woman with the glasses. “Marty. Expert—ah, of course. Martha Harding.” She extended her hand for a shake. “I have read your work on fibrocalculous pancreatopathy. Very well researched. I am delighted that you can be with us.” She gripped the woman’s hand firmly and received a firm grip in response. “Frankly, Dr. Harding, considering the long list of your credentials, you seem quite young.”
The woman smiled softly. “So do you, Dr. Taylor.”
The slim woman snapped impatiently. “Please sit down, Ms. Taylor. We want to get started here.”
Was rearranging her old familiar conference room a ploy on this woman’s part to make her feel uncomfortable? Along with the verbal slaps? She could almost think so. On the other hand, it gave the cameras more room to move around. But why should they have to? A hundred thoughts raced around in Dinah’s head; sometimes such a scramble of ideas was a blessing, sometimes a curse. But this time they showed her a route to take.
Ignore the professional snub and don’t let it rattle you—that’s her purpose.
Her guiding thought had to be,
I am here to help people, to improve their health, and I know my stuff.
Yes, but they brought an expert.