The Miracle Girl

by T. B. Markinson

  “Does Claire have a say in this?”

  “Claire has always made really poor decisions when it came to relationships.”

  “You including yourself in that, Darrell?”

  He ignored this. “Leave the paper. Go back to New York.”

  “Or else?”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

  I laughed. “Too bad you haven’t shown this much initiative in the past eight years. I wouldn’t be here right now. You dropped the ball when your wife left and took your kids away. Lost your edge. Your weakness brought me here, and if you think I’m going to back down, you are sorely mistaken.”

  “What are you going to do? Drag Claire into the middle of all this?” He knew my weak spot because I frigging told him. “Leave Claire out of this.”

  “I can’t. She’s what I call my ace in the hole. How will everyone at work treat her if they found out she was fucking the boss? And what if they find out about Ian? Claire has slept with two of the paper’s publishers. It’s not fair, but you know people will look at Claire differently because she’s a woman. They won’t treat me any different.” He wore a smug smile.

  “You’re willing to play that card? To humiliate the mother of your son? The paper means that much to you?” What had happened to the man who kept Claire’s secret? Who bought his son a Barbie Dream Car? Where was the decent Darrell that Claire kept trying to convince me existed? My body shook with anger.

  “How much does it mean to you?” he asked.

  I sucked in some air.

  “Sorry I’m late, Darrell. Minor emergency at work.” Claire barged through the emergency room curtain. “JJ, what are you doing here?” She looked at my flustered face and Darrell’s squared shoulders. “What’s going on?” Her voice was loud and questioning.

  “She’s trying to blackmail me,” said Darrell.

  I backpedaled. “What?” I turned to Claire. “That’s not true!” I knew all of us were making a commotion given the setting, but I didn’t give a damn. “You fucking bastard!” I started for him, but stopped suddenly.

  “Go ahead, JJ. Try me.” He didn’t mean take a swing at him.

  Claire looked to Darrell and then to me.

  A nurse barged through the curtain. “What’s going on in here? This is a hospital!”

  Without responding Darrell pointed at me.

  The nurse tapped her foot. “Do I need to call security, Mr. Miller?”

  “Yes,” responded Darrell gleefully.

  “No need, nurse,” said Claire. “Really, this is all a big misunderstanding. We’ll be out of your hair soon.” Claire flashed a scout’s honor smile.

  The nurse studied Darrell and then my petite frame. “Okay, but if I hear another commotion I’ll have security throw all of you out. Understood?”

  Claire nodded her head. When the coast was clear, she motioned for Darrell to speak.

  “Why else would she be here, Claire?” Darrell turned to me like a cat pouncing on a mouse, except his upper body was stiff as a board, so the move was more Frankenstein-like. “Threatening my job while I’m in the hospital. Low blow, JJ. Low blow.” He waggled his finger in disgust. It was clear Darrell planned on using this opportunity to make me look bad, and considering the situation, he was doing a great job. I looked like a schmuck. I’d had no idea that Claire would be the one picking him up, but in hindsight, it made sense for the mother of his son to be listed as an emergency contact.

  Claire’s chin dropped. The look in her eyes made me want to punch Darrell in the face.

  I glared at him. “You know that’s not what happened, Darrell. You think you’ve played your cards well today. Trust me, you fucked up.” With that, I spun around and stormed out of the ER, trying not to look defeated and regretting my words. They only made me look guilty. This was why Cora always pounded into me to think with my head, not my heart.

  Before escaping into the safety of my car, Claire caught up and tugged my arm. “Would you mind telling me what’s going on?”

  “I came to offer Darrell an olive branch. He categorically turned me down and declared all-out war.” I shook off Claire’s hand and disappeared into my car. Without giving Claire a chance to speak, I turned the key and drove off. In the rearview mirror, I saw the puzzled and hurt look on her face grow smaller and smaller until I couldn’t see her reflection any longer.

  * * *

  That night, I stood in my apartment, staring at the twinkling lights of Denver, sighing. I was starting to miss New York. The lights. The excitement. It seemed so much simpler back there, and I never thought I’d think that. I had been naïve enough to think conquering the West would be easier for someone from the area.

  I wanted a drink, desperately. I rubbed my lips with my palm, trying to erase the need.

  Did Claire believe Darrell or me? I was certain he filled her head with lies. In order to combat them, I would have to tell her what he said. Did I want to put a wedge like that between them? How could I tell the woman I loved that the father of her child cared more about the paper than he did about her and their son? After finding me at the hospital, would she even believe me?

  And now the writing was on the wall. I had to fire the man. It was obvious he would never give in. Not only did he want the paper back, but he was willing to destroy Claire’s career.

  Fuck!

  I would lose Claire because of him. Because of Darrell fucking Miller. The chance for a normal life. A family. I wanted to wring his neck.

  The man had nerve when he told the nurse to call security. The thought almost made me smile. He was the one who’d shoved me. I even helped him put his shoe on, for Christ’s sake. What an unbelievable ingrate.

  “Coming here was a mistake,” I muttered before marching over to my fridge in search of a drink. Only bottled water.

  Flipping on the TV, I turned to Fox News, not out of support of the channel, but to learn from it. I loved watching how they snared viewers into believing almost anything. Fox personalities were passionate, and I wished I could bottle that passion and slip it into the water cooler at work.

  Shit!

  I grabbed my car keys and left, returning ten minutes later.

  The television was still on, and I tried to watch it and not the whiskey dribbling out of the tiny bottle into a glass filled with Coke. I pondered how long it had been since I had a Jack and Coke, my go-to drink when I needed to let my hair down.

  I hoisted the glass to my lips and sniffed the fizzing concoction. The glass was too small to allow for much Coke, and the first sip was mostly whiskey. Closing my eyes, I swished the liquid in my mouth. Fuck, I missed it.

  Minutes later, I was concocting another JD, heavier on the whiskey. I had only purchased small bottles of whiskey as a counter-measure. But I did slip the store’s card in my pocket. How fortuitous that I found a liquor store in Denver that delivered. So much for Cora implying I was far from civilization. I laughed over the thought of telling her about this latest discovery, but knew she wouldn’t find it funny.

  Two hours later, a knock on my door startled me.

  I peeked through the eyehole and swore under my breath. “Just a minute.”

  I rushed back into the main room and swept all the tiny whiskey bottles into the trash can next to my desk. Panicking, I crumpled some sheets from my notepad to hide the bottles. Dashing into the bathroom, I quickly gargled some alcohol-free mouthwash.

  “JJ, I can hear you in there. Open this—”

  Before Claire could utter the word door, I whisked it open and motioned for her to come in.

  I looked in the hallway on the off chance that Claire had forced Darrell along for the ride for round two. Not seeing anyone, I shut the door with too much force, which caused me to stagger.

  “Can I offer you—” I remembered all the alcohol was gone and stumbled over the words, “a bottled water?”

  “This place stinks like a dorm room,” was all Clai
re said. She looked unimpressed by my apartment, which was in complete shambles.

  I sniffed my armpit, unsure what Claire meant. Did I smell, or the place?

  Claire leaned against my desk. “Why did you go to the hospital today?”

  “I told you already,” I said.

  “I asked Darrell about it after you left. He says you threatened his job if he didn’t play nice.” She crossed her arms and tilted her head.

  “Darrell’s a goddamn liar,” I slurred, and then I quickly covered my mouth in hopes of pushing the garbled words back into my throat.

  Claire approached me and sniffed. “Are you drunk?”

  Fearful of speaking, I shook my head vehemently.

  “I heard clinking before you opened the door,” said Claire, not to me but to herself. She spied the trashcan and lifted the crumpled papers. “That’s the smell.” Her accusatory eyes burned holes into me. “Ten years. You were sober for ten years.”

  “It’s overrated.” I waved an arm, accidentally knocking the shade on my librarian desk lamp.

  “I can see that. Now you’re also looking like an ass, not just acting like one.”

  “Acting like an ass. You’re acting like an ass. You and Darrell.” I shook a finger at her. “God, Claire. What did you see in him?” I collapsed into my desk chair.

  “I’m wondering the same about you at the moment.”

  “Pa-lease! Darrell is …” I didn’t want to admit what he threatened me with so I uttered, “a country bumpkin. An old fart.”

  “And you’re a snob.”

  I ignored this comment. “He thinks he has it all figured out. Thinks he can corner me.” I waved a hand dismissively. “Darrell has no idea what he’s up against.”

  “So you did threaten him today,” stated Claire.

  “Nope. I tried talking some sense into the man. But he doesn’t know his ass from his elbow. I gave him the facts.”

  She asked, “And the hospital was the best place for this conversation?”

  “Obviously not.” I shook my head wanly. I wanted to tell her the truth, but didn’t think that was the right decision. Exhausted, I slouched in the desk chair. “I went for you, and he saw that I was vulnerable, so he’s using it against me. I can’t help him now.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Gone. That’s what that means.”

  “You can’t fire Darrell. You promised me.”

  “I have to. That was the plan. The plan from the beginning.” I broke into a fit of giggles. “He was so smug today. Thinking he had me cornered when all along he’s been the one stuck in the tree surrounded by wolves.” I stopped laughing. “He called me a little girl, today. Said I was a little girl in over my head.” I looked for my drink, seeing it was empty. “Damn!” I grabbed my last miniature bottle and poured it into my cup.

  “Do you really think you need more?”

  “‘Do you really think you need more?’” I mimicked. “Yep, I really do.”

  Claire let out a long breath.

  I shrugged and sipped the drink. “Do you have any more accusations to make?” I sputtered.

  “You make me sick.”

  “I make you sick. Interesting coming from the woman who fucked Darrell. Tell me, did he have hair sprouting out of his ears then?”

  Claire slapped me across the face before storming out of the apartment.

  I shook it off and sipped my whiskey.

  * * *

  The following morning I sat at my desk in the office. It had only been five minutes since I arrived, and I already regretted not staying home. The dawn was still fresh on the horizon, but I wore my sunglasses.

  “I hope your head hurts.” Claire waltzed into my office.

  “Good to see you too, Claire.” I removed the glasses gingerly.

  “Well?” Claire crossed her arms.

  “Well, what?”

  “Do you have anything you want to say to me?” Claire’s face looked hopeful.

  I thought back to last night, remembering snippets. “Not really.” What could I say? That Darrell was so determined to get control of the paper that he was willing to throw her and Ian under the bus. It would crush her and threaten Ian’s relationship with his father. I couldn’t do that.

  “That’s how it’s going to be, then?” asked Claire.

  “Yes.”

  Without saying a word, she left.

  My Blackberry rang. Before I had a chance to say hello, Cora shouted, “What in the fuck is going on there?”

  “What do you mean?” I popped the top off an aspirin bottle and tossed two pills into my mouth, swallowing without water. Usually I didn’t get hungover. Clearly I was out of practice.

  “Darrell is telling everyone you went to the hospital to threaten his job. Please tell me you didn’t do that.” Cora’s tone wasn’t one of desperation, but animosity.

  “Of course not. I went to see if he was okay. I know he’s divorced and thought it would be nice to check on him. Not a lot of people are lining up to help Darrell out.” How could I tell her I went to ask him to be nice so I wouldn’t have to break my promise to Claire? Cora would be appalled by two things. That I asked Darrell for a favor and that I’d made a promise to Claire.

  “That’s not how it played out.”

  I wanted to say, “Tell me about it.” Instead, I groaned.

  “According to my little bird, security threw you out of the hospital.” Cora’s shrill voice was not helping my throbbing head one bit.

  I rubbed my temples. “Another lie. Security wasn’t involved. All I did was stop by to see if he was okay. End of story. He’s trying to twist it to make me look bad.”

  “It’s working. Get rid of him, now.” There was a pregnant pause. “And, JJ, if I hear of you drinking again, I’ll fire you myself.”

  “How did you‌—‌?”

  Cora cut me off. “How do you think I know? She’s concerned about you. Me, at the moment, I’m fucking pissed. Get yourself to a meeting today and every day for the next three months. Am I making myself clear?”

  I held onto the phone, listening to the calming effect of the dial tone. I picked up my desk line and called Avery on her cell. “Have the head of HR in my office first thing this morning.”

  “Righty-O.” Kung Fu Avery’s voice was too chipper, like she sensed something exciting in the works.

  I started to dial Claire’s extension, but then thought better of it.

  What could I say? I behaved like an ass the night before when she came to talk to me. My ego had taken over. And then there was the whole issue that I was preparing to fire her son’s father. I rubbed my forehead in hopes of working the strain out. It didn’t. I popped another aspirin into my mouth.

  First I had to deal with Darrell. Later Claire.

  Julie from HR popped her head around the door promptly at eight. “You wanted to see me?”

  I waved the perky blonde woman in. “Yes, and close the door.”

  Sitting in one of the faux leather chairs opposite my desk, Julie wiped the grin off her face and transformed into a stern professional.

  “I need you to put a package together for Darrell. Call Wendell. He knows of the situation and will be able to fill you in on everything.”

  Julie visibly flinched when I uttered Wendell’s name. Wendell was an institution at Beale Media Corp. No other employee caused more fear and dread. If someone was called into his office, it meant he or she was getting fired. No ifs, ands, or buts. Beale Media Corp employees didn’t say they were canned. They referred to it as being Wendelled.

  Back in the day Wendell would meet with all the employees personally to let them go. Now that most branches had their own HR departments, he was still responsible for doing all the dirty work behind the scenes, but handed off the unpleasant task to the local HR person. It was still called getting Wendelled since everyone knew no one was fired until he got involved.

  Julie squirmed
in her seat. “A package‌—‌you mean he’s being let go?”

  “Yes. Today. How quickly can you get everything together?”

  Julie stood. “Let me get on the horn with Wendell.”

  “Great. Meet me back here when you’re done.” Without giving Julie another glance with my bloodshot eyes, I turned my attention to my computer to go over the daily figures. When the door closed, I pulled out a Visine bottle and doused both eyes.

  * * *

  When Julie reappeared, she was back to her bubbly self. “I think we came up with a decent amount.” She handed the paper to me.

  I glanced down, nodded in agreement, and then reached for my desk phone. “Avery, please tell Darrell to come to my office.”

  A moment later Avery called back. “Darrell says he’s too busy and asked you to make an appointment for tomorrow.”

  I saw flashes of red. “Please tell Mr. Miller to come immediately,” I instructed Avery.

  Julie tittered nervously and mussed with her golden locks. I remembered she was relatively new to the paper and wondered if she’d been involved in firing someone before.

  Avery called back. “He’s on his way.” Her tone suggested I should prepare myself for a charging lion. I felt like a zebra with a broken leg. I steadied my nerves so I could play this just right in front of Julie.

  Darrell rushed in. “Who in the fuck do you think you are?” When Julie turned around in the chair with her mouth hanging open, Darrell stopped dead in his tracks.

  I motioned for him to have a seat next to the head of HR. “Thanks for making the time, Darrell.”

  He looked like he was trying to regain his courage, but nodded his head meekly.

  “There’s never an easy way to do this, so I’m not going to sugarcoat it. While the paper greatly appreciates your dedication and service, we feel it’s time for a clean break.” I motioned for Julie to hand Darrell his termination notice. “Julie and Wendell have worked out the terms. I hope, given the circumstances, you’ll agree it’s generous.”

  Darrell refused to take the paper. Julie wiggled it slightly.

  A satisfied smile spread across Darrell’s face. “Do you think after yesterday you can do this?”