Mine to Protect

by Sarah J. Brooks

  We got inside, and I put Carrie in her playpen as I sat down with the bulky envelope. I questioned whether I should open something when I knew nothing about who sent it. The small town in me, trusting everyone said otherwise, so I went ahead. Inside I found hundreds of newspaper pages which had all been run through a shredder. This I found puzzling and dumped them all out in a pile on the floor. I sorted through a few, trying to find some puzzle matches so that I might understand if the stuffing was the purpose of the envelope, or whether there was something that had been merely cushioned by it in there.

  I could finally tell they were pages from the local newspaper here in Brookfield. I found the date on one; it was two years previous. Beyond that, it was impossible to gather anything that was recognizable. The newspaper was brittle, which told me that it was all old, something I found more than a little creepy. I bundled it all together, stuffed it back into the envelope and threw it into the trash can in the driveway. I didn't even want it in the house.

  Once I got back into the house, Carrie was crying and the whole experience was very unnerving. I had no idea why someone would send me an envelope full of shredded newspaper clippings. Apparently, they had some sort of significance to whoever set them, but I had no clue. Was this another act, was it his way of telling me that he was watching me? Could he be this sick?

  I found that thought frightening and wished my parents weren’t in Florida. There was no one to look out for me and no one to look after Carrie if something happened to me. I just didn't know what I was dealing with. It was all so uncertain. After dinner that night, I put Carrie to bed early. I sat for a long time in the front room looking out the window and going through the suspects in my mind once again. The more I thought, the more panicked I became and the bigger the house felt. I scrambled for my phone and tapped Patsy’s number.

  "Patsy, I'm going to ask you something rather silly, but please, help me out if you can. Could you come? Could you come and stay with Carrie and me for a while?"

  "Well, I guess I could. Why? What's wrong?"

  "I don't want to go into the whole story right now. But something came in the mail today and it really freaked me out. It worries me."

  "No problem. I love that big old house. And it would be a treat to come stay with you. It would be just like old times."

  "Good. Then I'll expect to see you soon."

  "I'll be there."

  Chapter 19

  Coulter

  “Did you give her the job?” I asked Peter. We were sitting in Adirondack chairs on the expansive front porch of my cabin.

  “Just as you asked,” Peter responded, taking a sip of his beer. Although it was still early Spring, the day was unusually warm and we both needed the fresh scent of air to clear our heads.

  “And did she seem like she was happy?” I wanted to know every nuance, every detail.

  “Yes, she did. Actually, she’s really sweet, if you don’t mind my saying so. At the grocery store, she took time to talk with me and process all those bottles of water.”

  “I figured those would set her off.”

  “No, not at all. Like I said, she was really nice. When she applied and found out she’d be my assistant, it seemed to surprise her pleasantly.”

  “Pay attention to what I tell you to do. The last thing I want her to do is to quit and run off again. I’m in this thing deep this time.”

  “I understand, boss.”

  “Tom Marshall.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Marshall.”

  “God, don’t slip up on that. It will kill everything.”

  Peter nodded.

  “Did you take care of that other detail?”

  “Yes, I did. All taken care of.”

  “Good.”

  “Mr. Marshall?”

  “Yeah?”

  “May I ask you a personal question?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Just exactly what are your intentions with her?”

  “If it’s any of your business, I’m going to make her my wife.”

  Chapter 20

  Gwen

  Working with Peter was probably the best job I’ve ever had. It was almost as if he was working for me. I had an office the same size as his and we left the door between us open. In the mornings, we lingered over repeated cups of coffee and gossiped about everyone and everything we could think of. He laughed at my jokes and made me feel clever and beautiful again. He was very good for my self-esteem.

  I teased him about his girlfriend, Kathy, a lovely petite girl who worked for Marshall and seem to adore him. I saw his face light up every time she stopped by on some made-up pretense, just to see him. In some ways, though, it made me a little sad to think that I would never have that kind of new love again. I’d been burned twice and was in no hurry to repeat those mistakes again. I had my daughter, a good job, both my parents and lots of friends. What else did I need?

  Secretly, though, I knew. The only problem was what I didn’t know who he really was as a man. Was he the kind, caring, loving person who had held me in his arms that night, or did his need to control overstep everything in his path? I wish I knew because I missed him.

  It was a beautiful day and I opened my windows to the outdoors. Peter stuck his head through the doorway and motioned to me. “Come with me, I have something to show you.”

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “You’ll find out shortly.” I followed him as we left the building, women’s eyes all around us trained on his back. I had to admit, I understood their lust. He was young, very good-looking, affable, brilliant, and liable to be a major player someday. If I hadn’t already had that aching love in my heart, I might’ve been interested, too.

  He went to the exit door and held it open for me. I wasn’t sure what he was going to show me but was glad the weather was warm because I’d left my jacket inside. We walked out into the parking lot. I was puzzled. “Are we going somewhere?”

  “No, not me, anyway.”

  My heart sank. I realized then what was going on.

  I was being fired.

  He hadn’t told me inside because company policy held that people being fired were walked out of the building before they were told. It prevented scenes. Any moment now, someone would come out with my purse, my jacket, and my picture of Carrie from my desk. I would be told that I was no longer needed, but I would receive two weeks’ pay as severance and I could continue on the company health plan as long as I paid my own premium. I’d seen it happen so many times before, particularly with the former owner of that very company. I felt the tears began to well up in my eyes and that sick feeling crept into my stomach.

  What was I going to do? I couldn’t live off my parents. I had quit the job at the grocery store and been so happy to do it; more than likely I’d burned any bridges there were. It was a small town and there weren’t many jobs to be had. I didn’t even have a degree.

  I was so busy counting my woes that I overlooked Peter, his hand pointing over my shoulder. “Turn around.”

  I froze. Were they going to frisk me? Did they think I was sneaking out the tape dispenser? “Peter, just break it to me, would you? Haven’t we become good enough friends that you could take a little pity and just get it over quickly?”

  His eyebrows rose, and he cocked his head. “Gwen, what the hell are you talking about?”

  “Well, isn’t this how it’s done?”

  “How what is done?”

  “Aren’t I being fired?”

  “Aren’t you being… where did you get that idea? If this company were to shut down, you would be the last one out of the door. Hell, I’d get fired before you would.”

  I thought that was an odd comment, but my relief caused me to overlook it. “Then, what is it?”

  “Would you just turn around and look?”

  I turned around and the most obvious thing was a soft blue, Cadillac SUV. It sat before me like a trophy, wearing a huge white bow on its roof. “Did you get a new car?”

  “
Did I… My God, Gwen. You are the hardest person I know to surprise. Hasn’t anyone ever done anything good for you?”

  “Me? Are you saying that’s for me?”

  “Of course, who else?”

  “Now, wait a minute. I don’t see any other baby blue Cadillacs around here. Why am I getting one?”

  “Well, in the first place, you’ve been doing a marvelous job and I talked you up to the boss. He said he’d like to reward your hard work and that you would be a very good liaison between him and the rest of the people in the company. He’s not from around here, you know, and he thinks that it would be very helpful if you could let him know when there are problems in the plant or any personal issues with the employees. He wants everyone to be happy and things to run smoothly and feels as though they don’t all trust him yet.”

  “And for that, I get a Cadillac?”

  He nodded. “Yes, and no. Yes, you are getting the Cadillac, but no it’s not just because the boss wants to reward you. You will also be asked to run an errand from time to time between here and the boss’ house or to pick up someone from the bus station, or the airport, or whatever. You know. Consider it like a company car except that it belongs to you.”

  “Peter! I can’t even afford to pay the taxes on that thing or put gasoline in it. No, thank you. I’ll keep my little beater.”

  “Sorry. I can’t do that. The boss was very firm on this. He told me if you refused, that I was fired. You don’t want me to be fired, do you? Anyway, here’s a company credit card. Your insurance, gasoline, maintenance, everything gets charged to that card. It’s not going to cost you a penny and it won’t show up on your W-2.” He held out a key ring and grinned. “Here you go. Why don’t you take it for a ride?”

  I was shaking my head, still confused. “Peter, this isn’t normal. I’ve only been here a few weeks. There are people working here for gosh, more than thirty years. Their whole lives some of them. Why should I get a car and they don’t?”

  “Don’t worry about them. The boss takes care of everyone in one way or another. This is what he wants to do for you, and like I said, my job depends on it and you will be using it for company business. So, please, can you just take it for a drive, tell me how much you love it and let me tell the boss that my job is safe?”

  I was out of arguments, which was rare. I took the keys from his hand and walked over to the Cadillac, running my hand over the dove-blue paint job. “I think this is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “They tell me it’s pretty good in winter, too. That should keep you and Carrie safe.”

  There was something about his words that sounded familiar, but again, I was ecstatically happy and not paying attention. I opened the door and looked inside. The interior was a creamy white tufted leather and matching carpet. I carefully climbed into it, tapping my shoes on the doorframe in case there was any sand on my soles. I slid the key into the ignition and turned it. It began humming with an underlying base that rocked my heart. This was the sexiest thing I’d ever sat in. I turned on the sound system and strains of Rachmaninoff’s Rhapsody filled its interior. “Shoot, I’m just going to live in here.”

  Peter was laughing. “You don’t know how much pleasure it gives me to see you so happy.”

  “Well, who wouldn’t be? Oh, my God,” I said, clapping my hand over my mouth.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “What are people going to say? You and I are always laughing and neither one of us do very much work. When they find out I got a company car like this, oh my God, they’re going to think we’re sleeping together.”

  “As delightful of a thought as that may be, my dear Gwen, we are not and do not intend to and I give you my word on that. So, to hell with what they think, enjoy your new car. Take the rest of the day off. Go pick up your daughter and ride the country roads with the windows open. It’s too beautiful of a day to let it pass.”

  “Peter?”

  “Yes?”

  “I think I love you.”

  “I’m sure you do,” he said, laughing as he walked back into the building and left me with my new toy.

  Chapter 21

  Coulter

  “So? Did she like it?”

  “Yes, Mr. Marshall, I would say that was an understatement. Of course, she went through all the arguments you anticipated. She was suspicious, she was afraid the others would talk and think that she and I were having an affair, she was afraid she couldn’t pay the taxes, gas, or insurance, and of course, I assured her none of those were worth worrying about.”

  “Did you give her the card?”

  “Yes, sir, I certainly did.”

  “Good. I bet she looked great in it.”

  “If you don’t mind my saying so, sir, she would look great in anything, but baby blue and cream leather certainly are her style.”

  “Good. Now, here’s what’s next. I’ve watched the weather report and the supposed to stay warm, at least enough to be outside. A week from Saturday, I’m going to host a company picnic. I want you to line up the works. Bring in tents, plenty of seating, games for the kids, pony rides, a dance floor and music, and for God sakes, lots of beer and delicious food.”

  Peter raised his eyebrows. “And we are celebrating…?”

  “Do we need to celebrate anything?”

  “Well, if I’m going to spread the invitation, they’re probably going to want to know why they should come.”

  “Good thinking. Tell them I want to thank them for sticking with the company through the transition. Tell them I want them to get to know me and what life will be like at Marshall manufacturing from here on out. I want to earn their loyalty, I want to benefit the community, and between you and me, I want to make Gwen happy. Taking care of her friends and family will do that.”

  “She is one lucky lady.” Peter finished making his notes and stood to leave.

  “Oh, and Peter?”

  “Sir?”

  “It’s me who’s lucky.”

  Chapter 22

  Gwen

  I had Carrie dressed in an adorable little outfit with blue jeans and a checked shirt. She was wearing a hand-knitted, navy sweater and baby-sized capital Keds tennis shoes. She could totter along on her own very well, but I held her hand on the uneven ground at the estate.

  Mr. Marshall had invited the entire company’s employees and their families to a picnic. Peter told me what a generous and kind man he was and that he wanted everyone to be happy that they stuck it out through the transition. The weather was perfect and as Carrie and I parked and began our walk toward the massive log home; I felt like we had entered one of Disney’s Wonderlands.

  There was an entire children’s carnival set up to one side. There were ponies to ride, little colored cars on the merry-go-round, games where you could win prizes, and an entire table set up with plain cupcakes and dozens of colors of frosting and various toppings. The kids were going crazy over that. They could make up anything they wanted and eat to their hearts’ delight. I hoped secretly that Mr. Marshall had good dental insurance because there were a lot of cavities in the making that day. I let Carrie make one cupcake, but most of it ended up on her face before it made it inside her mouth. I cheered her on and wiped her with a napkin and continued on.

  There was a staff set aside to watch the children, so the adults could circulate and eat at will. The entire affair was so very thoughtful, and I knew everyone appreciated it. Everywhere I went, I heard Mr. Marshall’s name bandied about. People were enamored of him and the word was that there was a list hundreds of names deep of people waiting to apply for an opening. I didn’t think there were going to be many coming up very soon, and I was very glad that I had met Peter and ended up his assistant.

  Patsy had moved in with us and while she made me feel a little safer, she was another version of Bitsy. There were some things that just escaped her. She helped to look after Carrie when I went to run errands and that helped a lot. Still, odd little things happened from time to tim
e. They weren’t really destructive—things like my garbage can was brought back up to the side of the house before I got home. No one in the neighborhood would do that. That meant someone who didn’t belong there had done it for me. Then there were the pizza deliveries, every Friday night. The delivery boy wouldn’t say who’d ordered them, but they were always prepaid and had the exact toppings I loved. I told the boy not to bring any more, but he said he had his orders and they would just rot on the front porch if I didn’t take them in.

  Then there was the matter of a wardrobe. Peter greeted me one morning after the car and handed me a credit card with my name on it. “The boss says you’re to go out and buy yourself a wardrobe,” he told me.

  “Why?”

  “For the same reason that you got the Cadillac. He wants you to represent the company well and feels that it would be an undue financial burden on you, so he’d like you to treat yourself to whatever you want and just use that card. Don’t worry, there’s no limit to it.”

  I just stood there with the card in my hand and my mouth hanging open. There had to be more to it than that. Why was that man showering me with these gifts? Was it really and truly just part of the job?

  That was one reason that I went to the picnic that day. I wanted to thank him personally for all he’d done for the community. I also needed to thank him for what he had done for me. It was almost as if he knew exactly what I needed, which was impossible because I’d never even seen the man, much less met him. In fact, there was a lot of speculation as to who he was. Some people said he was in his late 50s, short, fat, and bald. They said his wife had left him for a guy who owned a McDonald’s and that his heart had been broken. I thought that sounded a little hokey, but there were other rumors.

  Some people said he was an invalid, a man who had made a lot of money in his life and now, just as he was dying, he decided to become benevolent and adopted the company and the local townspeople as his pseudo-family. They said he wanted someone to show up for his funeral when he died. Now that version seemed a little more plausible to me, but then, there was nothing for sure.