by Amber Crewes
Suddenly, as she stepped onto the street, she saw a blue scarf flying through the air. She hung up her cell phone, stashing it back in her pocket. She lunged for the scarf, groaning as she missed catching it in her left hand. The scarf flew through the air, and Meghan collected her breath as she watched it fly into a green bush outside of the funeral parlor.
Meghan panted, wishing she were in better shape as she slowly walked toward the scarf. “That scarf gave me a run for my money,” she breathed as she plucked the faded blue accessory from the bush, careful not to tangle the ends in the leafy branches.
She triumphantly unwound the last piece of the scarf from the bush, and then turned around to find its owner. She spotted someone waving at her from across the square, and she waved back, sure that this person was the owner. Meghan walked toward them, and she could make out the form of an older man sitting on the bench. As she got closer, her heart began to pound; Meghan was dismayed to find that the person waving her over was Mark Tilley, Mrs. Sheridan’s least favorite cousin.
“Thank you for bringing my scarf back,” Mark Tilley grinned as Meghan’s jaw dropped. “It’s so good to see you, Meghan.”
10
“W
hat are you doing here?” Meghan asked as she stared at Mark. “Are you following me?”
Mark laughed and shook his head. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he arrogantly said to her. “I just happened to be out on a walk when I saw you march into the funeral home. I was a little curious about you, especially given that we met just outside of my Auntie’s suite. What were you doing at the funeral parlor?”
Meghan shook her head. “That’s none of your business,” she declared, looking around the streets and hoping someone would be around to hear her scream if she needed to. “I need to go.”
“Don’t go,” he said, reaching to grab Meghan’s wrist. “Talk to me for a moment. You said it yourself at the nursing home that you wanted to meet me. Tell me why. Just give me five minutes; I have barely been outside of my house for years. Give an old man some company.”
Meghan bit her lip. Mark made her nervous, but she didn’t want to make him angry. She sat down next to him on the park bench, and he smiled brightly. “Thank you,” he murmured. “And I wanted to tell you that I am sorry for making the scene at the nursing home. I was frustrated with Sally, and I shouldn’t have been rude to that old man.”
Meghan looked into his eyes. “Why were you so frustrated with her? I know that things have been...tense...in your family, but you looked extra angry.”
Mark sighed. He looked down at the ground. “I was angry,” he admitted. “My family history has been complicated, to say the least, and seeing Sally Sheridan at Sevenoaks sent me over the edge.”
“What do you mean?” Meghan asked.
“The trouble I was in? What I snapped at you about when you asked me? Well, it’s a story that has never been properly told. When I was younger, I was found guilty of running an illegal dog fighting ring, but the truth is that it wasn’t me who was in charge of it. It was my Aunt Lucy’s husband.”
Meghan gasped. “Seriously?” she asked. “Why did you take the fall for him? How did that happen?”
Mark shook his head. “It’s complicated,” he sighed. “I was just a normal, average young man in Sandy Bay before I got caught up in all of this.”
Meghan leaned in. “How did you get into it? Was it your idea?”
Mark chuckled. “I was a skinny little nobody back when this all started,” he laughed. “I didn’t have the street smarts or resources to start this kind of a hustle. My uncle, Lucy’s husband, introduced me to the world of dogfighting.”
Meghan’s dark eyes widened. “Her husband dragged you into it?”
Mark nodded. “I was a young man looking to make some quick cash, and my uncle told me that he had a way for me to do it. One night, when my aunt was out of town, he told me that we were going to have dinner together at a place just south of town. We drove out of town, and nothing seemed amiss; my uncle and I chatted about the weather, my summer plans, and his upcoming birthday party. I didn’t suspect that anything was about to happen.”
“And then?” Meghan pried.
“And then, we got to the restaurant. It was a little Italian restaurant fifteen minutes out of town. I had never heard of it. When we walked in, my uncle marched up to the host stand, whispered something into the host’s ear, and the guy led us back into a hallway. He knocked on a door, and then, we were led downstairs to the basement.”
“The basement?”
Mark nodded. “That’s where one of the dog fighting arenas was. I had no idea what was going on, and it wasn’t until we left that my uncle fully explained things. He told me that he owned and operated a string of those places, and he wanted me to join the underground family business.”
Meghan was shocked. “What did you say?”
Mark looked down at his shoes. “I said yes,” he told her. “I needed some money, but I also needed someone to look after me. My own father was pretty cruel to me when I was young, and my uncle seemed like someone I could look up to.”
Meghan pursed her lips. “This is crazy,” she muttered.
“You have no idea,” he sighed. “You should have seen these places; people from all over the world would crowd into these basement areas to watch the shows. You could hear all different languages, see different types of people, and that was just a normal weeknight! On the weekends, my uncle would arrange for the richest, wealthiest people in the industry to come to our arenas. These folks were dripping in dollars. It was the wildest thing I had ever seen.”
Meghan shook her head. “If you weren’t the mastermind, though, I don’t understand how you took the blame,” she said to Mark. “This sounds like a seriously complicated situation. Why did you get blamed?”
“His name wasn’t connected to any of the accounts,” he explained to Meghan. “My uncle traveled a lot, meeting investors, looking for new dogs, and visiting other arenas. When the police finally caught up to us, he was out of town, and they had no idea that he was the hotshot owner of the business. He was instantly acquitted; he wasn’t tied to the property in any way, nor was his money invested in it. I, however, was not so lucky; I had thrown my personal funds into the business, and little did I know that because of that, I would be blamed, and my uncle wouldn’t even be a suspect.”
Meghan raised an eyebrow. “Then why should I believe that he was involved? That all sounds pretty crazy.”
Mark buried his face in his hands. “No one ever believes me,” he lamented. “Aunt Lucy was mortified when I explained to her what had really happened, and she gave my uncle a piece of her mind. She knew that I was telling the truth; my aunt always believed in me. She did not believe in losing face, though she knew her husband was responsible for my demise, she did not clear my name.”
“Why?” Meghan asked.
“It would have been too humiliating for her,” he sighed. “And she said that because I had some involvement, I should face some sort of punishment. I took the fall, and she agreed to support me financially until I got back on my feet.”
“But you never got back on your feet, did you?” she asked.
“No, I didn’t,” he confirmed. “After the trial, I was hated in Sandy Bay. No one wanted anything to do with me. I never found a job, I never settled down, and I lived my life dependent on my Aunt’s money.”
Meghan was shocked by this revelation. She wondered if Mark’s story was true. “Why didn’t you just leave town?” she asked Mark. “Your reputation here was ruined. Why didn’t you start over somewhere new?”
“Trouble always catches up with you,” Mark answered matter-of-factly. “People feel so strongly about what they believe I did; animal lovers can be vicious opponents, and I didn’t want this kind of a story to follow me to a place where people could hurt me. Staying in Sandy Bay meant that no matter what, I would have protection. My Auntie was untouchable in this town, and while they hated me, t
hey could never do anything to me while she was alive. And now, she’s gone….”
Mark buried his face in his hands. “I’ve never forgiven my uncle,” he confessed to Meghan. “He let me, a young man, take the fall. At least my Auntie helped me; my uncle never looked my way again, and he treated me like trash even though he was the owner and operator of the dog ring.”
Meghan took a deep breath. “That is quite the story,” she admitted as they sat quietly on the park bench. “It sounds like you have been through a lot.”
“You have no idea,” Mark declared.
Meghan’s heart sank as she imagined the loneliness of Mark’s life. He had no one now that his aunt was gone, and Meghan felt for him. She reached over and took his hand, giving it a squeeze. “I don’t know you well, but I want you to know that I am sorry,” Meghan said tenderly. “I hope that you will find it in you to move past this, Mark. Forgive your uncle and move on. Being stuck in the past doesn’t help anything, and I wish you only the best moving forward.”
Mark pulled his hand back from Meghan and glared at her. “Move forward?” he grimaced. “That’s a joke. I will never forgive my uncle for setting me up. Never! My uncle was a bad man, and I am still owed a debt from that family. The very least I deserve is every single dime in my aunt’s estate, and I won’t rest until it is all MINE.”
11
M eghan was shocked as she hurried away from Mark. Things with him had escalated so quickly; she and Mark had been having a perfectly civil conversation, and then, he had grown angry in an instant.
“I was just trying to be a good listener,” Meghan thought to herself as she rounded the corner. “He seemed to need someone to talk to, and I was just trying to be a listening ear.”
“OUCH!”
Meghan walked right into someone, and she cringed as she felt her body collide with theirs.
“EXCUSE ME!”
Meghan’s eyes widened. She found herself staring at Hilda, the owner of the dog grooming parlor.
“I’m so sorry,” Meghan apologized as she reached down to collect the lipstick and wallet that had fallen out of Hilda’s purse.
“You should watch where you are going,” she snapped, bending down to pick up a stray quarter that had fallen onto the sidewalk.
“I didn’t even see you coming,” Meghan admitted. She saw a piece of paper on the ground, and she picked it up. She turned it over and gasped. It was Lucy Hudson’s obituary.
“Give me that,” Hilda demanded, holding out her hand.
Meghan held onto the obituary. “Why do you have this?”
Hilda shook her head. “I was friends with Mrs. Hudson. I saw her obituary in the newspaper this morning and cut it out. Not that it is any of your business.”
Meghan crossed her arms. “Friends? With a woman that old?”
“She invested in my grooming business,” she explained in annoyance. “You know, the grooming business that your jerk boyfriend seemed to hate.”
Meghan’s face fell. “I’m sorry you heard what Jack said,” she said softly. “He is so frugal, and his words came out so rudely. I hope you can forgive him.”
Hilda scoffed. “Whatever. I know guys like that: the All-American type who think they are king of the world? He seemed like such a jerk.”
Meghan’s mouth fell open in shock, but before she could reply, Hilda snatched the obituary out of her hands and stuffed it back inside of her black silk purse. Hilda turned on her heel and marched off down the block.
“Meghan?”
Pamela walked out of the bakery, her face wrinkled in confusion. “Who the heck was that?”
Meghan shook her head. “No one. It was no one.”
Later that evening, after Meghan closed the bakery, she decided to go for a walk. Dressed in a chunky white sweater, her running shoes, and a pair of forest-green leggings, she left her apartment and wandered down to the beach, one of her favorite places.
“What a day,” she thought to herself as she removed her shoes and walked barefoot along the shoreline. She thought back to her earlier years in Los Angeles. Meghan had moved to Hollywood with dreams of becoming a famous actress, but time after time, she was rejected, never receiving more than a minor role in a soap opera.
As Meghan felt the cool, salty breeze hit her face, she pondered the many times directors and casting managers had dismissed her. With her plucky spirit, Meghan had never been too disheartened, but she imagined that constant rejection, especially from one’s own family, could be heartbreaking. She thought of Mark Tilley and his bitterness, how he seemed to be consumed by his anger, and she felt pity for him, as well as curiosity. What would have become of her if she had let rejection distract her from happiness during her years in Los Angeles? While she had not become a famous actress, she had made fun memories, gained dear friends, and while she had never achieved her dream of becoming an actress, she had found the silver lining in her life: her rejection had led to the creation of Truly Sweet, her true passion. What could Mark’s life have been like had he focused on the good things in his life instead of the heartache?
Meghan walked to the end of the beach, but instead of turning around to venture home, she kept going. She had a lot on her mind, and the walk was a much-needed distraction. After a few minutes she looked up, surprised to find herself at the gates of Sevenoaks.
“I was so lost in my thoughts that I ended up here,” she chuckled to herself as she walked up the paved pathway.
As she approached the security station, she heard a car honk behind her. She turned to see a bright red Maserati, the driver waving at her from the front seat.
“Meghan!”
The luxury car rolled up beside Meghan, the window rolled down. Valerie sat behind the steering wheel, her lipstick matching the car’s exterior perfectly.
“What a surprise!”
Meghan smiled. “I was on a walk and ended up here,” she admitted.
“Sounds like you have a lot on your mind,” Valerie said.
“It’s been a long week,” she shrugged. “That’s a nice car you have, Valerie. I can smell the leather from here. Is it new?”
Valerie blushed. “I work long and hard,” she told Meghan. “I am hardly ever home for dinner with my family, and my husband complains that he doesn’t have a wife anymore. I am the breadwinner in my family, and every year, I treat myself to a new car. This year, I had my eye on this little beauty, and now, she is mine.”
Meghan giggled. “You are truly embodying the “treat yourself” mentality,” she said playfully.
“Work hard, play hard,” she agreed. “Hop in, Meghan. I’ll drive you up. I’m sure you’ve never been in a Mas before, right?”
“I haven’t,” Meghan confirmed as she eagerly climbed into the passenger seat. “These seats are so soft!”
“And heated,” Valerie chuckled as she pushed a button. “Wait until you turn the radio on; the sound system in this little baby is unmatched!”
Two minutes later, the women arrived in front of Sevenoaks. An attendant dashed out to retrieve the keys from Valerie, and then, the car was driven away. “Valet parking,” she explained to Meghan. “We offer it to our guests, of course.”
Valerie marched inside of Sevenoaks. “Mrs. Sheridan is here,” she told Meghan. “Would you like to me take you to her? She’s been spending some time in our community room; some local church group was here to do crafts with our residents, and Mrs. Sheridan volunteered to clean up their mess. Bless her heart.”
Meghan followed Valerie into a large open-concept room. With its high ceilings, bright white walls, and pale blue couches, the aesthetic was clean and crisp, perfectly suited for Sevenoaks. Meghan spied Mrs. Sheridan in a corner, a dust mop in her hand.
“We insisted that she let our staff tidy up,” Valerie announced as they walked up to Mrs. Sheridan. “But she wanted to help out.”
“It’s good to give back,” Mrs. Sheridan explained. “My Auntie was quite the philanthropist, and I’m sure she would have
wanted me to volunteer here. I should have done it more when she was alive.”
Meghan sat down at the light wooden table and patted the seat next to her. “Take a rest?”
Mrs. Sheridan happily complied. “Giving back takes a lot of energy out of me, it seems.”
“I’ll let you two catch up,” Valerie said as she waved goodbye and walked out of the room.
Meghan leaned in. “Speaking of giving back and philanthropy,” she whispered to Mrs. Sheridan. “Did your Aunt give back in other ways? Did she ever get involved with businesses?”
