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Wayward Paths and Golden Handcuffs

Page 13

by S.J. Thomason


  “Mom, tell me more about the love you said you felt yesterday. Do you realize the heart monitor flat-lined just before you said that?”

  “Yes, I watched it from above. I watched you too and the nurses and your friends and I could hear your prayers. Then I saw my life flash before my eyes. I saw each and every one of the times I’ve been given the opportunities to help others, but failed to do so. I saw the way my pride and my possessions and my ego blocked me from seeing those opportunities and instead led me to judge those with other missions in life. And I felt an immense love and passion stronger than anything I’ve ever felt before.”

  Nick watched her. She appeared vibrant, like a true fighter, yet humbled as a fox would be humbled by a mighty lion in the jungle.

  “Things are going to change. I promise. I can’t believe I’ve been so blinded from the truth for all of these years. I’ve been greedy, caring too much about my work ethic and success and my ego. None of that is important. You’re important, as are all of the people with whom I work, interact, and encounter. You’ve been right about a lot of things, Nick. And I’m not going to die with my riches and my wealth and a meaningless epitaph. I’m going to die a blessed woman, poor in spirit and rich in love. I want my epitaph to say something about the way I’ve served and not the way I’ve lived.”

  “Mom, nurse Fey thinks that God has given you another chance. You’re going to beat the cancer mom. No doubt.”

  “God willing, Nick, I’m going to beat the cancer. I think he’s giving me a second chance and I’m going to seize it with a passion like you’ve never seen. I’m going to let Jesus work through me to make some significant changes in my life and in the lives of those around me.”

  Nick smiled. “Mom, I’m excited. I have an idea of a place where we can start. Of course I want to be by your side in this.”

  “Are you thinking of Barbara Collins’ foster home?”

  “Wow. Yes. Exactly.”

  “So am I. And I have some ideas. As soon as I get out of here, let’s get over there.”

  “When will you get out Mom? Do you know? Has the doctor said anything yet?”

  It may be a week or so. I’m not sure. I left a message for my other doctor about rescheduling my chemo therapy sessions, due to the accident. The doctor here says I need to rest and recover from the car accident a bit more first.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “Oh, and Nick. I’ve decided that I’ll be changing things at Fox ‘n Fields as well. I don’t need the sort of compensation they’re paying me. And we don’t need that ostentatious home. We can live quite nicely in something more modest in downtown Orange Bay with a fenced- in yard for Chipper.

  Furthermore, I’m going to look into the compensation packages of our employees. There are thousands of hard workers at Fox ‘n Fields who are likely struggling to make ends meet for their families with the salaries we’re paying them, given today’s inflation rates and the high cost of living.

  I’m going to speak with the Board about more significant pay for performance plans that incentivize, inspire, and reward those workers. There’s no reason that average, mid-level workers shouldn’t be pulling in at least $70,000 a year for what they do. It’s time I set an example for other CEOs and our boards to follow.

  “I totally agree with you. Wow. You amaze me Mom.”

  “It’s not about me anymore. It’s about others.”

  “God bless you Mom.”

  Both were quiet for a few minutes before Nick stood up. “I’m going to check on nurse Fey.”

  “Okay.”

  He walked down the hallway, but found that Fey had already checked out of the hospital. He was glad for that. “She’s amazing,” he thought to himself as he returned to his mom’s room.

  Chapter 26

  The Alleged Accidental Shooting

  A week and a half later, Nick was getting ready for his job at the summer camp when the doorbell rang. He opened the door, finding two cops waiting for him.

  “Hi, my name is Officer Brian Beatty of the Orange Bay Police department and with me is Officer John Canfield. We’re investigating a shooting and need to speak with Catherine O’Brien.”

  “A shooting? What are you talking about?” Nick studied the two officers, who were young and fully uniformed with holsters and guns. They appeared a bit stiff and far too serious.

  “Well, we can’t go into details as we’re currently investigating this occurrence. Is Catherine O’Brien available?” Officer Beatty adjusted his stance as he spoke. He was slightly taller and a bit heftier than his counterpart, who seemed to be the proverbial silent partner, and it appeared that his striped beige trousers were two sizes too small. Then he noticed that his partner’s pants appeared two sizes too big. “Hmmm. Pants swap?”

  The officers appeared anxious, so he broke himself away from his thoughts. “She’s sleeping right now. She’s recovering from two broken ribs in an auto accident last week, and beyond that she’s battling cancer. Do you really need me to wake her up?”

  “It would be greatly appreciated in our investigation, sir,” Beatty said.

  “Okay, hold on just a minute.” Nick closed the door and went into his mom’s bedroom.

  “Mom,” he said, “can you talk to two cops? They said there’s been a shooting and they’d like to talk to you about it. Not sure of much more.”

  In the same moment, Nick thought of the press photographer and the newspaper article he’d read about his death a few days before.

  “Sure, Nick, I’ll come to the door. Give me a few minutes to get out of bed and get dressed. My ribs are killing me.”

  Nick left her room and returned to the front door.

  “She’s getting dressed. It’s hot out here. Do you guys want to come in?”

  “That’s okay, sir. We’ll wait here.”

  “Okay, well, she should be here in a minute,” Nick said as he closed the door. He sat down on a chair in the living room by the front door and waited for his mom. Within a few minutes, she walked up slowly and opened it.

  “Please come in. I can’t stand outside in the heat right now in my condition.”

  Within a minute, Nick found himself seated next to the two cops and his mom in the living room.

  He looked again at Beatty’s pants when he caught Beatty’s beady brown eyes watching him. “Sir, can you please leave the room? We need to talk privately with your mom.”

  “Sure.” Nick went to the next room where he was within an earshot, unbeknownst to the cops.

  “Mrs. O’Brien, do you mind if I record our conversation?”

  “No.”

  Nick listened to Beatty as he read his mom her rights and then proceeded to recount the story of the press photographer, his pregnant wife, his young daughters, and the alleged accidental shooting.

  “Alleged?” Nick thought.

  He heard Beatty say, “We’ve identified a number of text messages between you and Mr. Ramsey. They indicate that you had a relationship with him, which may or may not have ended prior to the shooting, which occurred on Thursday, June 26th.

  Nick shuddered.

  “Yes, there was a very brief relationship. We dated twice on the same day, which was the day after a fundraiser I held in my home on May 16th. Braedon was taking photographs at the fundraiser. That’s how I met him. The first date was about the fundraiser and my approval of the pictures. The second was a dinner that night.”

  “But you didn’t date him again after that?”

  “No. I didn’t. I saw him once after that while on my morning jog. He seemed pushy and desperate and it felt a little like he was stalking me. Not my type at all. I also didn’t know that he was married. He told me his wife had passed away a couple of years earlier of cancer. Of course I didn’t realize he had a pregnant wife at home or small children.”

  Nick stepped into the room. “Sorry, but I overheard you talking. You guys need to know so
mething. That guy is a snake. He told me that his wife had died of cancer so he could go after my mom. That was at the fundraiser. The shooting was karma. Probably his wife’s anger over her husband’s cheating.”

  “Really? That’s good to know. And your name is?”

  “Nick O’Brien.”

  “Okay, thank you to both of you. Your help is appreciated. When you’re better, would you two mind coming down to the police station to take a deposition?”

  “No, I don’t mind. I’ll come down,” Nick answered.

  “I will too. Oh, and let me ask you this. Am I going to find my name splattered in all of the papers? Please say no.”

  “No, not while this is under investigation. We have no intention of leaking this to the press or it would distort the investigation and make it difficult to identify an unbiased jury.”

  “Thank you.”

  Nick looked at his mom, who was sitting silently in a chair.

  “Mom, I hope you don’t mind, but I had to say something. You know, I saw a wedding band on that guy’s finger at the Women’s Luncheon too. He took it off before he started flirting with you. I should have told you that before. I should have told the police that too. I’ll let them know when we go down there.”

  “That would have been helpful, Nick, but that’s okay. You didn’t know that I went on a date with him, so you had no reason to tell me. If I would have pursued the relationship, I would have said something to you, but I’d chosen not to pursue it.”

  “When you have wealth, you always have to be wary of suitors without wealth. You’re always questioning their interest in you and looking for flaws. It’s difficult because sometimes you don’t know if you’ve made the right judgment call when you either remain with them or break up. In this case, I made the right decision.”

  “His wife could have read the text messages that he sent to me, which would have indicated that he hadn’t been faithful to her. Whether an accident or on purpose, it’s probably some sort of karma. He shouldn’t have been cheating on his pregnant wife. Plus he had two small daughters. What a shame. Men. Sorry Nick, but some men use the minds under their belts when making decisions.”

  “True, Mom, but not all of us.”

  “Well, I know you’re perfect, Nick. You’re my son. Let’s talk about something different. I’m going to rest a bit more and then at 3:15, let’s drive over to the foster home for our appointment.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll be back from the summer camp around 2:45. That will give me time to shower, shave, and put on my dark blue suit.”

  “Good, I plan to wear a blue suit as well. We’ll blend nicely together.”

  Chapter 27

  Making a Difference

  After a long drive past orange groves, cow pastures, strip plazas, and a few scattered homes and planned communities, Nick and his mom pulled up to the Collins’ foster homes in the Ferrari. Nick was driving and his mom was by his side with a pillow wedged between her body and the seat belt, so that it wouldn’t rub too hard against her sore ribs. They circled around the property along a road before entering the parking lot and choosing a parking space a short walking distance from the front door of the main facility.

  The main facility was a large, freshly painted crème-colored home with rust-colored shutters and matching flower pots under the windows. It could be distinguished as the main facility by the sign that hung over the double doors, “Collins’ Home.” Its appearance matched the other homes on the wooded property, which were neatly organized along a circular road. As Nick walked up, he looked off to his right where he saw a large pond and a couple of young boys fishing. Beyond that, he noticed basketball courts and tennis courts, which were also occupied by boys and girls, along with a few older staff persons.

  “Nice-looking homes,” Nick said as he noticed that each of the two story homes was freshly painted and featured colorful flower beds and freshly mowed, healthy green grass. The windows appeared sparkling clean and everything looked very new.

  “Definitely. This looks like a good environment for kids. Look at the playground over there,” she said as she pointed to a large playground, with swings, slides, and climbing stations to the left of the main facility. The swings and slides were green, while the frame of the playground appeared to be a brown-colored artificial wood. It all blended into the natural wooded environment well.

  “Nice.”

  They walked through the front doors and greeted a receptionist.

  “We have an appointment with the board. Nick and Catherine O’Brien.”

  “Nice to meet you, Nick and Catherine,” an older Hispanic-looking woman replied. “They’re waiting for you just down the hallway and to the right. The Conference Room.”

  “Thank you,” Nick said as they walked to the Conference Room. There they found eight board members, who all stood up to greet them. The one at the head of the mahogany-colored rectangular conference table greeted them first.

  “Greetings! My name is Joan Landers. I’m serving as the chair of the board right now, in place of our founder Barbara Collins on an interim basis. These are our other board members, who each voluntarily serve three-year terms: Brian Cummings, Michael Richter, Janet Riley, Bob Chang, Ed Saltieri, Tyrell Perez, and Damien Dominguez.

  “Nice to meet you,” Nick said as he went around the table and gave each a hearty handshake. He observed that they represented varying demographic groups, which he determined would pair well with the varying demographics of the children’s population in the home. He further observed that all were wearing suits. He was happy he dressed the part.

  He noticed a framed picture of Jesus on the wall, which was the same one he’d seen before that had been painted by the child prodigy Akiane. Next to that picture was another picture of Jesus. This time he was kneeling down in front of a group of small children. A verse below read, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as these (Matthew 19:14).”

  His mom said, “I’d love to go around the table and shake all of your hands, but I’m recovering from a car accident. Please excuse me as I sit down.” She pulled out an empty seat from the middle of the table and sat down.

  “No problem, Catherine. We will pray for your speedy recovery,” Joan said. “Everyone, please sit down.” The group moved around the table and took their seats. Nick sat by his mom’s side.

  Joan turned to Catherine and Nick and said, “Thank you so much for visiting us in the Collins’ Foster Home. We’re proud of our Christ-inspired mission and vision and all that we do to serve the Lord and our children. We’re also honored that you’re here with us today. What brings you two here?”

  “We’re well aware of Barbara Collins’ legacy and would like to offer our assistance in achieving your fine mission. Please tell us more about the home,” Catherine said.

  “Wonderful! Well, our mission statement is simply to ‘Provide secure, safe, therapeutic, and loving homes for abused, abandoned, and neglected children.’ We currently have the facilities to provide care and shelter for eighty children at once. We’re blessed with a good number of volunteers who help us in our efforts, along with a handful of full- and part-time paid staff members who live here. We further have counseling, nursing, and therapeutic people and facilities, since our children have endured a variety of difficult physical and mental abuses and/or conditions. We partner with a variety of children’s organizations, hospitals, churches, nonprofits, and local and state governmental organizations.”

  “Our location is ideal. We’re situated on fifteen acres of property and have the option to purchase an additional twelve acres of adjacent land if we secure the funding and the plans for additional home sites. We’re further zoned for the “A” rated public elementary, middle, and high schools, so our children can attend those free of charge. They’re bused a short distance to those schools during the school year. Those with disabilities that ext
end beyond those serviced in the public schools are provided schooling in the highest rated special education programs in the county. We also take advantage of other free county services offered by the parks and recreation departments to expand our children’s visibility in the community and to engage them further in the community.”

  “We’re proud of what we’ve achieved, yet we have dreams to achieve more. We estimate that there are around a thousand children currently living in foster care homes in our county as a result of abuse, so there is still much work to do to help these children. Many move frequently between foster homes and never find a permanent place to consider home. Many end up frustrated and homeless once they are taken out of the homes when they turn eighteen. We want to provide our children with a sense of permanence and security, so they need not worry about rejection, further abuse, or the challenges associated with parental frustrations and bleak futures.”

  “Education provides a future for our children, so we do all we can to ensure that they end up in either college or in vocational schools, depending on their skill sets. We have relationships with several of the state and private universities, along with a large number of vocational schools, and we offer assistance in completing scholarship applications and related applications to ensure that our children take those paths. We don’t want our students to miss any of the educational opportunities that may be available to them and to take wayward paths. We further should note that we have relationships with college recruiters and high school counselors for the purposes of ensuring successful futures for our students. We have an extremely high success rate and many of our so-called graduates end up returning and volunteering in our facility.”

  Nick said, “Great work! So, in a perfect world, you’d be able to offer safe and secure homes to the additional thousand children in the county, right? Your mission gap is a thousand?” He waited for an answer from Joan, who was wearing a grey pinstripe pantsuit with a crisp white button down shirt. Her dark skin and short, curly black hair gently blended with her outfit and projected warmth, while her bright white smile and the whites of her deep brown eyes both contrasted and merged with her outfit.

  “In a perfect world, no children would need our services. What a shame that we don’t live in a perfect world. In our imperfect world, our mission gap is a bit smaller. Some of the thousand have been well-placed in the well-functioning foster homes and some are nearing adulthood, while others get adopted, particularly those under five years of age. We estimate that there are three hundred children we could help if we had the means and the facilities. We consider ourselves a “best kept secret” and we’re always working on ways to get the word out. There are many people in our county who’d be glad to help us out, if they knew we existed. We need better public relations and a strong social media campaign.”

 

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