by K L Finalley
"Fellas, we're gonna decline to answer any questions at this time. We wouldn't want any undue media coverage," Phillip responded.
Teasing, Jacqueline asked, "Does that include me?" Phillip appeared confused. "It was a joke, Phillip. Relax," she said, hoping to comfort him.
He lifted his glass and smiled as if there'd been a joke worthy of a laugh and walked away. Before the two could talk about it, the newly elected County Superintendent came to introduce herself. In a shimmering, red dress, she approached, "I was hoping we'd formally meet tonight. I'm..."
"You're Superintendent Flint. I'm ..."
"You're Jacqueline Emerson," she said.
Jacqueline smiled, but she wondered why the Superintendent knew her name or wanted to meet her. For the sake of pleasantries, she introduced Mallory. "This is Mallory…"
"Oh, I know. My daughters and I record the show and watch it every evening. It's a ritual. We're so happy about your success."
"Thank you. And, congratulations on your success as well. We look forward to fruits of your hard work."
"Absolutely," the Superintendent said as she grasped their hands in a solid handshake. From high profile stranger to higher profile stranger, they were making their rounds when Mallory heard a familiar voice say her name.
"Don't you look incredible?"
"Hi, Mia," Mallory hugged her and returned her two fake kisses.
"You were stunning in the office and I had an idea that you'd be a lady outside of work. But, I was never quite certain," she continued her backhanded way of complimenting.
"Thank you," Mallory said hesitantly. "Do you have to attend these fundraisers with Martin?"
"Well, what else would I do?" Mia replied. "Everyone I know is here." She was stumbling backwards in heels and a strapless, white gown. "Do you want to join me at the Chamber table?"
"We can for a few moments," Jacqueline said.
"Did you make a bid at the silent auction yet?" Mia asked as she raised her champagne glass into the air to signify that it needed to be refilled.
"No, we've only just arrived," Jacqueline admitted as she glanced around the room.
"I saw you. I think the entire room saw you," Mia's alcohol admitted. "I must admit that your outfit is classic and tasteful. I had wondered what you'd wear to a formal event. All things considered."
"All things considered?" raising an eyebrow, Jacqueline asked. Mallory squeezed her hand gently.
"You being you. You wouldn't wear a dress. I wondered what you might wear, but this is very nice. It is both masculine and feminine. It speaks to you very well."
As oddly complimented and offended as Mallory, she said, "Thank you. How'd you know I'd be here?"
She adjusted her dress. "There are very little secrets in business. We keep the ones we know, but we know the ones we know. Remember that," and she winked at them. "Well, here comes your mentor." Turning to address him, she said, "My, my, time comes for us all. Doesn't it?"
"Good evening, Mia," Big Jack wore a white tuxedo jacket and a black bow tie. He had a black cane with an onyx handle. "And, ah, my Jacqueline," he reached for her.
She hugged him gently. "Big Jack. This is Mallory."
Looking at Jacqueline, he said, "Well, well, you've done very well for yourself. Very well." He elbowed Jacqueline before he turned to Mallory. "I've heard so much about you from Misty that I feel like I already know you, but this I didn't know." He pointed to her with an outstretched hand and remarked, "I guess beautiful women never call other women beautiful."
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard a great deal about you as well," Mallory said.
"Now, Daddy Jack, I have told you that she's a doll." Misty approached, wearing a black and white lace off the shoulder evening gown.
Jacqueline stared at the lace work wanting to touch it. Before her glares became to evident, she asked. "Where's Jack?" Jacqueline asked as she thought of him.
"Hobnobbin'," Big Jack responded. "Mia, you'll excuse us, won't you? We're gonna head to our table. If you're still upright in an hour or so, come by and visit," and he led the three women across the ballroom to the Sun's sponsor table.
"I can't believe you said that," Jacqueline said.
"Course, you can," he said. He bowed his head to the many who said his name as he passed. The Boyd family had owned land in southwestern Florida since Florida joined the country. They'd founded schools, fought wars, transformed swamp lands, started newspapers, paved roads, and started industry. Big Jack was living history, the patriarch of that legacy. While he was peering over the top of a cane, Jack was circling the room in his stead.
Assisting him into his seat, Jacqueline asked, "Do you need anything?"
"They'll show up in a moment with everything we need. Remember you're a Boyd," he said as she leaned down to offer her help to him.
"I'm not a Boyd," she said.
"Oh, yes, you are," he mumbled. Looking at Mallory, he said, "So, tell me about this grand house you two have bought." Mallory started to describe the rooms and her ideas. She talked about floors and carpets. She mentioned cabinets and the porches and Big Jack hung on every word. Jacqueline sat across the table, smiled, and watched the exchange. He was a keen listener, the best trait for any newspaperman. The waiter had come, as Big Jack had said he would to take their order. Jacqueline had ordered for the table with them all in mind.
"Good evening, folks," she heard as the waiter left. "Guess who I saw passed out at her table." She turned to Jack in a standard black tuxedo with black pants.
"Don't tell me," Jacqueline said.
"Come on, there's no reason to guess. We know it's Mia," Mallory replied. "Chances are, she started drinking before they left home."
"Five dollars to the lady in purple," Jack said as if he were on a late-night show. Then, he bent down and kissed her on the cheek. "Don't you look nice tonight?"
"Lavender, Jackie," Misty said as she checked her makeup.
"Is it?" Jack leaned in for another look as if distance defined color.
"Hello, Mister Boyd," a sharp toned voice said behind Jack's back.
He spun around on his heels to address the voice.
"Well, good evening, yourself," Jack replied.
"Hello, Jack, but I must admit I was speaking to…"
"Me. I'm still Mister Boyd," snapped Big Jack. "Good evening, Wallace."
Wallace Alden was a small man, graceful and smooth with sharp features. But, more importantly, he was Tampa's mayor. He'd served two successful terms. He'd balanced the budget, worked with both parties to attract and maintain investors while lowering crime. He'd been one of the best politicians in the history of the city. "How are you, sir?"
"Well, I'm just fine, Wallace. How are you?"
"Never better," he responded to Big Jack who never made eye contact with him. Then, he looked over to Mallory and Jacqueline. "I've heard so much about you both. I'm pleased to finally meet you."
"We are, as well," Jacqueline replied. "I must admit we are currently Saint Pete residents, so we were never able to provide our support, but I always wished..."
"Not to worry, you're about to have that opportunity," Jack said with his hands on Wallace's shoulders.
"Are you planning to run again?" Mallory asked.
"Wallace, here," Jack shook him with excitement, "just announced his candidacy for State Senator."
"Well, congratulations, you're a shoo-in. I can't imagine a state election you couldn't win," Jacqueline said.
"Can I quote you on that?" he said.
"Sorry, that's off the record," she quipped.
Wallace laughed. "Watch out. This one might be the next politician."
"Will you have to leave office?" Mallory asked.
"I'll step outta the way in the next few weeks, so the campaigning can begin," and as he said it, he put his arm around Jack and hit him in the chest. "Folks, I need to go mingle. I'm still mayor. But, I promise to swing back by."
"Well, it's been a pleasure to meet
you, Mister Mayor," Jacqueline said.
"Please call me, Wallace."
"Then, it's been a pleasure to meet you, Wallace," Jacqueline attempted to correct herself.
"You as well, Jacqueline. I'll see you in a little bit," and he smiled the half-smile she'd seen on television for years. She wondered if it was genuine or just part of being in politics. Making room for the waiter to return with the hors d'oeuvres and drinks that had been ordered, Jacqueline stood from her place at the table and joined Jack. "Wallace Alden seems like a great guy."
"He'll do," Jack said with his hands in his pockets.
"People love him."
"People fall all over themselves for him," he said.
"I guess this is the answer to the million-dollar question." He rocked on his feet. "You want to be mayor. You'd have the endorsement of the most popular mayor in the area's recent history. Not that you'd need it." He nodded. "At least, it all makes sense, now. You're gonna leave me for politics." She spoke as if she was thinking aloud, but the two never looked at each other. Instead, they stared about the room.
He put his arm on her shoulder and turned her away from the crowd. "I'm gonna get out of your way. But, you know, I'm always there for you. Always."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Friday morning, Jacqueline woke up early. In truth, she'd barely slept. When the sun rose, she did as well. She lifted her head and looked around her empty room. There was no nightstand, no television. There was no lamp, no rug. She stretched her long, brown body out from under a picnic blanket she'd had in the Laredo and walked to the dresser and placed her glasses on her face. She stood at the dresser for a moment, then she turned and scanned the bare room. She looked at Mallory lying atop a single, flat white sheet under the picnic blanket and frowned. This was her final morning, her final moments, in this condo as her own. Rather than rush to her empty bathroom and prepare for the day, she walked outside to the wraparound balcony. Her bare feet rejected the cold concrete, but she persisted. It would be the last time she'd be out there. Holding onto the metal railing, she braced herself and watched the rising sun. She thought of her first moments. She thought of all the things that she planned would happen in the penthouse that hadn't. She thought of the things that she never thought would happen that had, then she looked back at the empty room that contained the only thing she needed and she re-entered the room.
In the restroom, she brushed her teeth and cleaned her face from her travel kit as if she was on vacation in some faraway hotel. Once done, she dressed in the only clean outfit she had and tidied her possessions into her duffel bag. She walked into the empty living room and remembered where the couch once sat. She turned sideways to avoid the corners of the coffee table that skinned her knees when she was too drunk or too tired to make the turn. She went into the kitchen and stared into bare cabinets. She found the plastic cups and paper plates that'd become staples in the last few months. She removed the last trash bag, hoping it would remind her to take the last remnants of them when they left. She glanced into the empty space that once held a table they ate at as a family. Standing in the doorway of the empty dining room, she looked outside where the grill had been. She remembered buying an outdoor, lounging couch for she and Zoe to enjoy the stars on the patio. Smiling at the thought, she turned and walked down the hallway. She entered the spare bedroom that had remained finely decorated but unused for years. She peered into the room that Zoe claimed as her own. The bed, the television, her clothes, and all her belongings were gone, but Jacqueline could hear her laughter. She tucked her hands into her arms and walked into the room that was her office. There was no desk, no chair. Her violin wasn't on the top shelf of the closet. The carpet had been cleaned to remove the indentions that proved where the desk once sat. That room, like all the others, had been wiped clean of traces of her. Passing the hall closet and the main bathroom, she passed by the open doors and returned to the wraparound patio.
Standing outside at the opposite end from where she started, she looked down on a street coming to life. She saw the stores opening. She watched delivery people open trucks of foods and beverages to be sold. She watched merchandise being transferred into backs of stores from the backs of trucks.
"Should we talk?" Mallory asked as she rubbed her back.
Jacqueline inhaled deeply and turned her head to look at Mallory standing by her side. She was dressed for the day. Her face was on and her hair was perfectly placed. "Good morning," Jacqueline said breathy.
"You okay?"
"Sure. Why do you keep asking?"
"I watched you walk around this place. You look…sad. Like you've made a mistake."
Jacqueline could see the worry on her face. "No, it's weird. It's like saying goodbye to a friend. Like someone's died."
Mallory rubbed her back. "I understand that. You've lived her a long time. I felt like that when I left Daytona."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I lived in that little house for years. It was my first real place. My first home, then we moved here. When I packed up to leave, I was okay. But, when it was empty and time to go, I just couldn't. It was so hard to walk away."
"You know, what's funny? This place had more potential than I ever put into it. I've done more at the new house than I ever did here," Jacqueline admitted.
Mallory came and stood beside her. She placed her forearms on the metal bar. "The house in Clearwater never felt like home to me. When I moved in, I said it was temporary. Just a place until I learned where I wanted us to live. But, then, there was this girl…" she rolled her eyes. Jacqueline nudged her. "And, before I knew it, I wanted to be where she was. I never fell in love with that Clearwater house. And, now, I hate having three places. Now, nothing's home."
Jacqueline became animated for the first time that day. "Oh, I know. It's weird to say I'm going home. Is that St. Pete, Hyde Park, or Clearwater? I'm so over that. It'll be great to have a home again."
"You know what?" Mallory nudged her back
"What?" Jacqueline turned around and put her back on the railing.
"When we leave, we can go home," Mallory reached out and touched her arm.
Jacqueline bit her lip and nodded. "You're right." Without another word, she held her hand out for Mallory to enter the penthouse. The duffel bags were sitting on the floor in the living room. Jacqueline checked the kitchen cabinets. Mallory checked the spare rooms, hall closets, and the main bathroom. Jacqueline walked through the master bedroom and bathroom. Then, the two met in the living room. "I think this is everything," Jacqueline said as she held the duffel bags and the bag of trash on her shoulder.
"Are the balcony doors locked?" Mallory asked.
"Check."
"Are you going to set the alarm?"
"There's nothing to steal. Besides, someone else will own it in a few hours," Jacqueline pulled Mallory close and kissed her. "We had a lot of great times here, but I look forward to our new life."
Mallory smiled so tight her eyes closed. Swatting Jacqueline on the butt, she said, "Let's go home."
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Prior to vacation, Mallory had explained to Zoe that she'd need to wear the nice outfit she'd in her bag on Friday night. On the car ride to Lauren and Josh's house, the fact had been reiterated. Two hours before she and Jacqueline were ready to pick her up, they called and spoke to her. They told her to wear the pink leggings with the black anchors along with the black and white striped cardigan and the white button-up shirt. It was the same outfit they'd talked about on three occasions. Nonetheless, the outfit was the source of argument from the moment they picked her up, through the drive from Clearwater to Hyde Park, and through the dinner at the French-inspired restaurant that Jacqueline had found down the street from the house.
After the meal, Jacqueline didn't return to the car immediately. The three of them walked around the open-air shopping district.
"Why do I have to wear a sweater and a long-sleeved shirt?" Zoe tugged at the shirt underneath.
"Y
ou look very nice," Jacqueline said.
"Stop messing with it," Mallory said. "Be happy that I didn't make you wear a dress."
Jacqueline stopped and threw change into the fountain. "That's nice, huh?" she said looking at Zoe.
"Do we live close?" Zoe asked, throwing her own coins.
"We aren't even a mile away," Mallory said.
"Look over there. There's a movie theater," Zoe said. "We could walk up here and see movies?"
"Sure could," Jacqueline agreed. "Or have ice cream," and she pointed to the shop.
"Or shop," Mallory was staring at a dress in a boutique window.
"We should get bikes," Zoe said.
"That's a good idea," Mallory said as she looked at the matching shoes. "There's a park between here and home."
Home. The idea of Mallory saying it made Jacqueline smile. "We can do that." The three continued to walk.
"Look, that place lets dogs eat outside on the patio. Jax, can we get a dog? Can we? You said we didn't have room in the penthouse. Do we have room in the house?"
"Let's move in first and your mom and I will talk about it. Deal?" Jacqueline said.
"Deal," Zoe high-fived her. "How far is my school from here?"
"From here?" Mallory said. "It's probably a mile or two."
"But, it's probably a half mile from home," Jacqueline said.
"Good. I hated driving forever to get to school. I want to live where my friends live," Zoe said as she balanced on the edge of the flowerbed. Jacqueline's heart pounded. That'd been her goal. She wanted Zoe to live in a place, a place that was down the street from her school. The same kids she could grow up with and walk to the movies with and eat ice cream with. "Are we going home soon? I wanna see the house. I've been waitin' forever."
Tucking her hands under her arms, Jacqueline whirled her off the flowerbed and back onto the sidewalk. "The car's right there." Holding Mallory's hand and watching Zoe race to it, she was happier than she'd ever recalled being.
