by Amy Baker
“Okay? Okay? Are you thinking what I’m thinking now?” he prodded.
I was.
Stacey didn’t just want to screw up the life I had made in New York. She made sure that the one that I was about to return to in Virginia was just as painful to settle into. It would seem that Stacey took all of the information that Hugh shared at lunch and used it to ruin any life I could possibly salvage anywhere.
Good Lord.
She wasn’t just evil. She was the epitome of evil. She was the devil.
I still didn’t know what the note that she sent Darcy said but I gathered it was pretty bad if Hugh’s response was any indication.
Logan picked up the receiver from its cradle and extended it out to me. “What’s Hugh’s number? I’ll get him on the phone,” he offered.
I was shaking my head before he even finished his sentence. “No. It doesn’t change anything, Logan,” I whispered.
“Of course it does!” he replied heatedly.
“No, it doesn’t,” I protested. “Hugh didn’t even give me a chance to explain. He immediately assumed I was guilty. If he would have paused for just a second he would have known that I had nothing to do with what Darcy was accusing me. But he didn’t. He jumped right on the band wagon,” the tears breached my lids as the admission crossed my lips.
“That’s a load of wax and you know it,” he challenged.
“Well I beg to differ. Relationships are based on trust, Logan. Hugh made it pretty clear that he doesn’t trust me at all.” I swiped another tissue and dabbed at the tears, which toppled from my lids with synchronization. I kept my eyes fixed on the carved edge of his desk hoping to rein in the emotion. Once successful I could feel the two holes that Logan was drilling into my head with his critical stare.
Unwilling to face another reprimand, I did the mature thing and changed the subject. “Please just find me a box.” I raised my chin defiantly and turned on my heel. So, all told, at the end of the shit day that I had started, I was able to stand up to Logan. Big fucking deal.
I heard the creak in my doorway before I saw the figure peripherally. It had been a very long day but I still could tell immediately that it wasn’t Logan. And anyone else wasn’t welcome anyway, so it didn’t matter whom it was. I shuffled a few more papers and spoke facing my desk. “Sorry, but I am quite busy. Any PR questions should be directed to Stacey “the devil” Horner,” I stated without inflection.
“Actually I was wondering what time I could come by and take some measurements in my new apartment,” the unwelcoming voice drawled.
I looked up at Will out of the corner of my eye. I almost, almost, killed him with my death stare.
“Don’t give me that look, Delilah. You snooze you lose.”
Really? Was he really going with the excuse most widely used by nine-year-olds? I guess so.
That last thing I was willing to do was let Will think that I cared he was taking over my rent stabilized apartment. So I did my best to mask my expression. However, I couldn’t let him get off totally scot-free. So I stooped to his level and responded with a twelve-year-old insult. “Whatever time floats that dingy of yours, Will.” I deliberately forced my eyes to travel to his crotch and then back to his face. Then I followed up with a look that clearly conveyed that I thought he was a piece of shit on the sidewalk.
Will shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. “Just understand, Delilah, you brought this on yourself.”
“How so, Will?” I countered. Having had enough of the psychotic game he was playing, I became more confrontational. “How exactly did I bring all this on myself? Was it because I was giving my attention to another man? A real man that is?” I saw his jaw clench in anger. He was about to say something, probably derogatory, before we were interrupted.
Logan’s timing was impeccable. He walked in as if on cue and delivered the perfect comment.
“Hey! If it isn’t the ding-dong from accounting.” I hadn’t even told Logan about Will’s involvement. He was acting completely on his own reconnaissance. Logan pushed past Will knocking him in the shoulder and then hit Will in the back of the head with the box he lamely tried to raise over his head. Too bad it was empty. “Sorry, Will, tight doorway,” he chuckled through his ridiculous excuse.
Will ignored Logan and spoke to me directly. “I’ll be by around 7 o’clock tonight. You better let me in,” he finished and spun on his heel.
“What an asshole,” Logan barked with a laugh.
Yes, Will was absolutely an asshole. A bitter asshole, more accurately.
“Want me to help?” Logan’s genuine offer cut through my hateful thoughts of Will and his sadistic cohort, Stacey.
I stared at the empty box blankly. When I looked back at Logan I swallowed hard choking back the lump that lodged in my throat. I could pretend all I wanted, but Stacey and Will had won. No two ways about it. Sensing I was about to lose something else, another shred of my dignity, Logan rounded my desk and enfolded his arms around me.
“Don’t worry, Delilah. Everything will work out. You’ll see,” he comforted with an authoritative paternal tone.
It didn’t matter that he was two years younger than me. I must have needed to hear his hopeful outlook because I took his words as gospel even though I knew deep down he didn’t comprehend the magnitude of the situation.
Chapter 15
My apartment didn’t look like my apartment anymore. Most of the effects that had made it mine were carefully enveloped in excessive amounts of bubble wrap. I had made considerable progress in the last couple of weeks and had the majority of my belongings already in boxes and stacked by my front door. I made sure to label each one with detailed information so I knew for certain what was in each box. There were more than I had expected. Hopefully the moving company didn’t jack the price too high from the estimate I was given.
I wasn’t sure where I was going to stay for the first few weeks when I arrived back in Virginia. I was actually considering shacking up with Julia. I knew deep down that was not the best idea. We just might kill each other after the first three hours, but my options were not what one would consider plentiful. I could stay at a hotel. But most of the hotels were near the airport, which was a forty-minute drive. Until I had myself settled in my new job and got the commute down pat, I didn’t want to commit to an apartment sight unseen. Julia had assumed that I would be staying with her. And she had apologized profusely for sharing my friendship ring finger secret. Not that it was a good excuse, but apparently she slipped one night at Preacher’s when she and Tiff were out celebrating Tiff’s engagement to Griff. Since she had begged for forgiveness I said I would forgive her. So now if I told her I wanted to stay at a hotel instead of with her, she would take offense and assume that I was still carrying the ‘you threw me under the bus’ torch. Therefore, I resigned myself to the fact that it was Julia’s place for a few weeks, maybe days if we were getting on each other’s nerves too much, and then I would search for the perfect place.
I only had a couple of days left before I made my way south. Julia was excited that her sidekick was returning. This, of course, was expressed in conjunction with her jab once again outlining that (in her eyes) she was never truly invited to come stay with me in New York. We could argue the point forever but knowing she would never see it my way, it was just easier to drop the subject.
“But at least I get my girl back. When do you actually get in?” she asked.
“My flight lands at 3pm. Do you think you can pick me up at the airport or should I call a car?”
“Are you crazy?” I had to pull the phone away from my ear with the high octave of her voice. “I’ll be there. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Okay, Jules. Got some things to finish up here,” my voice quivered slightly so I hurried off the call. “See you in a few days.” I tried to control my emotions. I did. But every time the topic of moving back to Virginia came up I lost it. Everyone there knew me as the girl who ruined Hugh Rowen’s wedding and sporte
d meat patties in her bra. No one looked at me that way in New York and leaving the place that had become my home was hard for me to handle.
But I wasn’t so sure that Julia would understand my point of view so I didn’t want her to know how much I resented the thought of returning to Virginia. Of course it had nothing to do with her, she was the only bright spot in the whole scenario, but I knew somehow she would take it personally. So it was just easier to work out the details of my arrival and get off the phone quickly.
Given she let me off the phone without argument, I was fairly certain she was afraid the conversation would digress back to the “Hugh left me for God knows what reason” saga. Over the past few weeks Julia and I had had never ending conversations about what happened between Hugh and me. Oddly, Julia didn’t get in the middle. She just offered an ear, which I chewed off night after night. Don’t get me wrong. She had her opinion. I could hear it in the way she sighed heavily or growled in response to a comment I made. But for some reason she wasn’t sharing. I wasn’t sure where she was getting her information or why she was reluctant to share it. I just knew that if she wasn’t giving it up so easy, it was most likely information I was incapable of handling. So I left it alone. I had bigger fish to fry anyway and a lot of shit to pack in the process.
I had been in touch with the HR department in the Virginia offices of Norstride. They had sent an orientation packet, which I had glanced over briefly. I figured I had plenty of time on the two-hour plane ride to go over the details. So I threw the manila envelope in my carry on luggage and continued to tinker around the apartment. I had already called the phone and cable company to discontinue service and I had cancelled all of my magazine subscriptions. Except for Feminine Hygiene Monthly. That subscription had been a gag gift from Stacey. She had presented that fine piece of literature to me on April Fools Day. So feeling a momentary bought of generosity, I transferred the subscription to Will Krakow’s name. But not before doubling it. He would receive that magazine for another twelve months. Who knows? Maybe he would learn something about himself. He was such a vagina.
An unexpected knock on my door startled me from my daydream. “Just a second!” I called. I put down a set of candlestick holders that I was trying to decide if I should toss or essentially pay to move and dragged my feet to the door. I peeked through the peephole to see who was there.
Davis.
I plastered on a half-hearted smile knowing Davis wouldn’t be able to handle a frown and opened the door. “Hey!” I greeted excitedly masking all signs of my depression.
Davis whipped off his ridiculous hat and started kneading it in his hands. “Hello, Delilah,” he stated blandly.
“Come on in, Davis. Everything okay?” I tried to be as chipper as I could. But Davis wouldn’t walk in. I gestured with my hand encouraging his progression to breach the threshold of my doorway but saw his mouth twitch instead. My fake smile began to falter. “What’s going on?” I asked with concern beginning to take hold.
“Well, um,” he began hesitantly. Then I watched his eyes move to the side and down slightly as if something or someone was there. I tipped forward through the door to see where his eyes had settled. There I found a young girl. She was small in stature but dressed kind of trendy. If I had to venture a guess I would say she was 10 or 11-years old.
“Oh!” I said with surprise. “Is she, um, yours?” I asked Davis. He had never spoken about children but it was certainly possible that it was personal information that he just never shared.
“Uh, no, Delilah. She’s not mine,” his eyes held mine in a way that said he was trying to convey something. But I just didn’t have a clue what it could be.
My eyes reflexively twitched as a horrible feeling took hold. I swallowed loudly and turned back to the girl. “Do you want to come in?” I tried to soften my voice so as not to frighten her.
The girl just nodded in response. Davis went to turn from the door but before he could I grabbed his wrist. “Don’t leave me,” I whisper scolded.
“Delilah, I’m working. I can’t stay. I’ll check on you two in an hour but I’m sure you’ll be fine.” He touched his other hand to my cheek as I let him go. He gave me a reassuring smile. Davis was so nice. I was really going to miss him.
I slowly closed the front door and turned to see the young girl. She was sizing me up and didn’t look all that happy. There was an edge to her. She looked pissed but emotionally shaken all at the same time. The attitude didn’t match her physical attributes as I imagined without the perma-sneer she might look angelic. Her hair was golden blond, her eyes warm with amber and her body was wafer thin. Decimating the vision I was picturing, she crossed her reedy arms over her boney chest and threw out a non-existent hip.
“I need information. And you are the only person who could give it to me,” she stated flatly and jutted her chin at the same time.
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other trying to get my bearings. “Well. Do you think you could tell me who you are first?” I crossed my arms to match her combative stance. “We should probably call your parents. I doubt they’ll be happy to know that you are parked in a stranger’s apartment. Stranger danger and all. So first tell me your name and I will call your parents so they aren’t worried.” I was starting to lose my patience. I had had just about enough of people pushing me around and then wiping their feet on my back. I certainly wasn’t going to take it from a pint size version that I didn’t know.
“You mean you don’t already know my name?” she stated with more attitude. “I thought my father was staying with you. Isn’t he here?”
Her father? My head shook reflexively answering before my mouth could catch up. “There’s no man staying here with me,” then it occurred to me. Maybe her father was Will and she thought he moved in already. “Is your last name Krakow?”
She shook her head vigorously. Like only a young child would. “My last name is Rowen. My father is Matthew. The letter you sent me said so and that he was staying here,” she pointed her skinny finger at me accusatorily.
Holy shit. My heart began to pound in my chest. I could hear it in my ears. “What?” I asked genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?” Since I was experiencing trouble breathing I knew my words were barely audible.
“You sent me a letter. It said that everything I knew to be true was not. That my father wasn’t who I thought. That Matthew Rowen was my real dad and he didn’t want me when I was born because then he couldn’t have you. It said you were glad that his brother, Ryan, took me in and pretended to be my dad. That’s what it said!” she began to yell. “Don’t tell me you don’t know who my father is! Where is my father!?”
Oh no. Oh my God. Logan was right. Stacey did send a letter but it wasn’t to Darcy, it was to her daughter. Could Stacey actually be that crazy? My entire body began to tremble. And then the tears arrived. I sniffled hoping to hold back the moisture. I couldn’t fall apart in front of this girl. But acknowledging that she was caught in the cross hairs of my nemesis was excruciating. How could a back stabbing psycho go so far? To win…what…exactly? I didn’t even know.
“Dolly?” my voice quivered as I confirmed her name.
She pursed her lips and nodded fiercely. “I want to see my Uncle…I mean my Dad.”
I dropped to my knees in front of Dolly and watched as she took a cautious step back. I couldn’t blame her. She didn’t trust me. Why should she? I sat back on my heels and covered my mouth with the palm of my hand trying to figure out where to begin. Once I gathered my thoughts, I dropped my hand and began. “Dolly. I know you are confused about a lot of things,” I started. “But nothing in that letter was true. Nothing,” I emphasized. “I didn’t send you that letter.”
I looked into her eyes and could see the determination that she was desperate to hang on to. “Then how would you know whatever it said was true or not?”
My lips pressed together knowing I had quite a fight ahead of me. This kid if nothing else was observant
and wise beyond her years.
“Okay. Listen,” clearly I needed to try another tactic. “Have you ever had a friend who you thought was your best friend in the whole world but they did something that let you know that you were wrong?” I didn’t know if I was going down the wrong road or not. I didn’t know one thing about children. My only experience was having been one, of course.
Luckily Dolly nodded. “My friend Shelby was looking at the things in my room and I showed her my most favorite poster of the band Bronco Billy and The Half Calves that I kept rolled up in my closet because I didn’t want it to get ruined and she said that she had the same one even though I knew she didn’t. When I went to the bathroom and came back she said she had to go and I couldn’t find the poster. The next time I went to her house I saw it in her room and she said it was hers all along. But I knew she was lying.”
I didn’t know what the heck she was rambling about but I didn’t care. All I cared about was that I had made a connection and I had something to go on.
“Okay, well I had a friend who I thought I could trust but she turned out to be not my friend at all,” I explained.
“What does this have to do with my Dad?” she asked with a little less contempt than she had started.
I shook my head not sure how to explain the rest. She was young. I couldn’t use examples like ‘Stacey fucked my boyfriend in a closet while I waited to go to lunch.’ So I was procrastinating trying to figure out how to explain myself and not put her in extensive therapy at the same time.
“Well. She hates me.” Remembering my mother’s wise words I quickly tried to qualify my statement. “Hate was a word that I was always told was bad. But there is no other word that I could use that would explain it.” I looked down and intertwined my fingers trying to decide how to proceed.
But Dolly immediately interjected. “That’s what my Momma always says, too. Hate is bad.”
Really? That was a surprise. Darcy was so full of hate for me that I was surprised that she would have taught her daughter such a thing. But I focused on the more important aspect of the conversation, which was that Dolly and I had something in common. I made another connection with her and there was no way that I was going to lose it.
