by Tracy Lee
"I just want to make sure. You really should've thought about the repercussions of what you did so you wouldn't have to do that thing that you have to do tonight."
"Momma!" She rolled her eyes at me and threw her toast back down on the plate. "They're not idiots…they know…you don't have to talk in code like their four and five, their seventeen and fourteen!"
Out of the breakfast nook I heard Harlee's voice echo "yeah momma…I'm fourteen."
"Whatever Harlee. Eat, we have to go." I replied as I attempted to start at the dishes. I took a deep breath and repeated the mantra in my head yet again. I began to calm down and started to remember who was in charge here.
"Hurry up! I have to get to work. We have a new client that will be comin' in today with a huge job and I know that Mr. Stevens is gonna need my help. I won't be home until six, so JoJo, you'd better be ready to go when I get home."
"Well, if it aint the fucking Cleaver family." The kitchen grew quiet almost instantaneously. I was facing the sink getting ready to wash dishes when I heard and felt a "Whhhaaapppp" on my backside.
"Shew-weeee!! Look at that ass jiggle, baby got back!! But daddy no like. Luc…look here at your momma's ass, it was perfect til she had ya'll."
I closed my eyes. I was not going to fight with him this morning. If I just let him talk his shit he'd leave and go off to work. If I ended up arguing with him he'd stick around for another hour or so and then I'd really be getting it.
I looked at Luc and JoJo and told them to take Harlee upstairs to get her school things while I finished cleaning up breakfast. Going back to the sink, I stuck my hands in the water to find another plate to wash when I heard my husband in my ear.
"I swear baby, if you'd be a better wife and pay more attention to your husband, ya might find yourself in a better mood cuz you'd end up getting fucked more often." He finished by wrapping his hands around both my breasts and squeezing roughly. I winced to myself but didn't say a word, nor did I pull my hands from the water.
"Shit Ellie, your tits sag as bad as a nasty homeless bitch. You might wanna think about getting those fixed." he trailed off as I heard the door to the garage slam.
Yeah, ok that's what I want…NOT!!!
I closed my eyes and thought about what he said. I wanted to break down but I couldn't. I had to be strong for myself and for my kids. He had gotten too many of my silent tears in the past he wouldn't be gettin anymore; if I could help it. But deep down, no matter how hard I tried, his trash talking always cut me to the bone. How could someone talk that way to another person, especially the person you vowed to love and cherish for the rest of your life? There was never love between the two of us. Not that I wouldn't have wanted to, I tried, way back when we first got together, but I just couldn't do it. Now, I don't feel shit for him other than extreme disgust and hate and according to him, he feels the same way towards me.
Exhaling, I looked around the kitchen, I began putting things back in the fridge and taking things to the sink. I knew if I didn't want to come home to wash dishes before starting dinner, I'd better hurry up and get them done. I grabbed my iPod and ear buds and blasted my music until I was taken away…
No one is allowed here but me, this place is peaceful, happy and safe. This is mine and mine alone. I come here whenever I have a bad day, I am beaten down by life or if the worst happens; He comes home drunk. Sometimes, he comes home pissed off and he'll end up taking it out on me.
This place is wherever I want it to be, but it is always with the same person. Today, I am riding in the truck singing the chorus to Boston's "More Than a Feeling" while head banging. I stop for a moment to look over at TJ and see him playing air guitar, he makes me laugh hysterically. I have every detail I need, the long road out in front leading us anywhere we can go before having to stop for gas and come back to our sense of reality. I can smell the leather of the seats mixed with his cologne; Polo. My pink bandana hangs from the rearview mirror that is drenched in my perfume; Liz Claiborne.
Every day here is sunny and the windows are always rolled down with the wind blowing my hair. God, this is where I love to be. No worries, no stress, other than where we will be going next. I think back to the nights spent with him alone, making loving and enjoying everything about each other's bodies.
He was my first and the last in my eyes. Yes, my husband gave me my beautiful child but that's it. He was and is…hmmm….what's the best word for it…an opportunity.
Hearing the song come to an end, I'm pulled back to reality. I look at the clock; seven thirty-five.
"Shit, we gotta go. Kids, get in the car!"
Growing up in Richland I couldn't wait to get out. Never would I have thought I would be raising a family and still be here. Now, having my children go to the same schools I attended when I was their age made it even worse. I could feel the freak out erupting inside of me over this subject. The only thing that made me feel any better was that I encouraged my children not to stay in this god-forsaken town. Go to college, travel; see the world, something I knew I would never have the chance to do again until after they turn eighteen.
As I drove to two different schools and hurried kids out of my Expedition aka "The Mom-Mobile" I started my drive through town to work. I hit the button on the dash that was blue-toothed to my phone, called up Rachel and set it to speaker.
"What's up Biatch?"
Hearing Rachel's voice over the speakers in my car saying that made me giggle.
"Rach, you aren't a teenager anymore, hearing you say that makes me think of a senior citizen laying it on thick to a twenty year old."
"Ok then…what's up BITCH!!"
"I had the dream again."
I heard her set her coffee cup down…hard.
"Shut up!"
"No, seriously, last night."
"Did you drink the tea?"
"Yes, I drank the tea." I replied in a facetious tone.
"Did you follow the directions explicitly…and don't be a smartass!"
"Ok … fine and yes. I followed the directions to a Tee, no pun intended of course."
I giggled again at my on the spot little joke I made and heard her reply her joke.
"Shut the fuck up, Elle!"
I laughed louder. "I drank the tea 2 hours after dinner but an hour before I went to bed. I didn't watch TV and I didn't listen to my iPod and I STILL had the dream."
"Oh no Elle, this is worse than I thought."
"What …" the smile left my face and I became serious in an instant. "What the hell does that mean, Rach?"
"It means I'm gonna have to do a little more digging to find out what your subconscious is trying to tell ya."
"Well, if I over-sleep again because I'm having a wet dream about another man next to my not so loving husband, I think I'm gonna have a hard decision to make; kill him for yelling at me or you for not helping me with this problem."
"He didn't …"
"He did …"
"Hey Elle, I have a question that I want you to answer honestly." a long pause follows and just as I think maybe I lost her; "have you tried to make contact with him?"
I immediately answered her "Hell no, and you know why. You know that his name is not allowed to be mentioned whether it be spoken, written or googled in my household."
"I know, honey… calm down. I just wanted to make sure, for some reason he is on your mind whether you want him to be there or not, and we need to find out why."
"Well, we will have to work on it later, I'm at work and JoJo has her thing tonight, maybe next time she will think twice about toilet papering Sheriff Corder's house."
Yes that's right, my angel daughter decided that since Sheriff Corder pulled her and her friend Ashlee over for going eight miles over the speed limit, then proceeded to write her a ticket, she and Ashlee would take matters into their own hands and toilet paper his house. They probably would've gotten away with it if he didn't get an emergency call in the middle of the night and have to go to the station. He walked out a
nd there they were, throwing rolls of paper all up in the tree in front of his house.
I had to go and pick her up from the station at 3:30 am.
She got that from her daddy.
"Hey, you need to get off her case. The only difference between her and us was Sheriff Watson was just too old to catch us."
"I know, but I can't afford to have more talk around town. We're not the most popular family in town as it is."
"Who fuckin' cares, Elle. You have the ones who love you and those kids and that's all that matters. The rest can go fuck themselves! Hey, wanna do lunch this week?"
This is why she is my rock!
"Sure …Thursday ok?"
"Sounds perfect, see you then. I love you, Ellie-Bean."
I rolled my eyes at her saying my nickname that TJ gave me. It always feel a stabbing pain in my heart whenever I hear it, especially after what happened.
"Love you too, Rach."
Walking up to the front doors of the Richards, Klein and Daugherty Law Group, I did my normal personal inspection routine: matching shoes…check… hair half decent, makeup in place…check…put on bra and panties… check, and deodorant… check.
"Good God, I am a complete woman!" I mentally congratulated myself.
Richards, Klein and Daugherty is a corporate law firm that deals mostly with corporations and investors that are buying and selling companies back and forth to each other. I am Loren Stevens' Administrative Assistant and have been for the last 15 years. My responsibilities are preparing all the contracts and forms. I also do a minimum amount of research for potential clients. This new purchaser is not someone we have dealt with before.
The Mac-Gentry Firm is headquartered in Burlington Vermont, which to me seems very incongruous, since they will be purchasing here in small town Richland and the company they will be obtaining hasn't been a prosperous one in several years. It's Richland Manufacturing; a company that most of the men in town work for, a welding company that builds rigs for off shore drilling.
Whether this deal is a little unorthodox or not, to me there is reasoning why I have to be in on it. It's personal, seeing as my husband is a foreman there.
Not knowing what the future holds in store for Richland Manufacturing, everyone around town has been walking on eggshells. The town is not flourishing financially because no one knows what the outcome of this purchase will be. Will the new owners close it down, will they keep the same employees or will they outsource, all information concerning this company is confidential, Mr. Stevens doesn't even know.
Reaching the elevators, something within me just feels….off. The hair on the back of my neck was standing up and I felt weird. I completely blamed it on my morning; waking up late dealing with Him then dealing with the kids and staying up until 3:00 am cooking didn't help. As I rode up the twelve floors, I attempted to shake off the eeriness. As the elevator doors opened, Mr. Stevens paced in front of me.
"Elle, Thank God you're here." he exhaled with panic in his voice.
"Loren, I told you I was going to be in early. It's not as early as I wanted to be here but I had a crap morning."
"It's ok. You got the contracts in order, correct?"
"Yes sir". I reassured him as I briskly walked to my desk. "They are on my desk. All I have to do is put the packets together. I'm going to go work on them right now. I set up the power-point last night and everything is ready to go."
Loren Stevens is in his early forties and has a country accent that would make Gomer Pyle laugh, which he tries with all his heart to hide, but being from the south is nearly impossible. He is about six foot tall and has a little more weight on him then the average man of that stature, but it doesn't make him look any less attractive. Clean shaven and his salt and peppered hair is beautifully groomed. He is married to a sweet, sweet woman named Leeza. They have no kids so she is his queen. They have been together since college and are such a cute couple. He is working to become a full partner within this law group and this deal is going to get him that position.
Sitting down at my desk, I flipped my computer on and opened up my email and noticed I had fifty-five new emails. I scrolled through them swiftly knowing I had to get to work on these packets, but I wanted to ensure there was nothing that couldn't wait until after this morning's meeting.
Noticing an email from Rachel, I laughed thinking at how much she cracked me up. I immediately opened it. It was an e-card that read: "Just thinking of you". A small smile touched my face as I pictured Rachel sitting in front of her computer, wearing her silk night-gown, probably Italian, that drug the floor. Her very expensive long blonde hair laying over her shoulder, a cigarette in one hand and a mimosa in the other, typing her own loving message, with one finger of course, "Just because he's on your mind doesn't mean you can't be on mine…Biatch!"
I laughed softly thinking back to this morning's conversation and how she must've went straight into her study right after she hung up with me and sent me this card. Which reminded me, Lilly would be getting a call from me tonight to let her know about our lunch date on Thursday.
As I realized I needed to get back to work, I pulled out the packet folders with the partner's initials imprinted in gold calligraphy on the front and filled them with forms, information sheets and the final contract that would be signed by the CEO's and or owners that would be attending.
Finishing up, I called out to the main receptionist Laurie and informed her that we would be conducting a contract signing in Conference Room B at ten forty-five and asked if she would attend to the refreshments. She gladly obliged so I hung up the phone and looked to the clock, ten fifteen, perfect timing.
I headed to the conference room so I could start setting up. The enormous room could seat twenty-five to thirty people. It's thick rich burnt red painted walls lined with a dark chair rail put off the old southern country feel. It was decorated by the most prominent interior designer in Marietta. All done in dark mahogany wood with a hint of gold adornments. The partners of Richards, Klein and Daugherty always wanted to exude the "Old Money" feel. God knows they will be taking enough "New Money" from these companies. I walked to the enormous wooden table that had been polished so that it reflected the sun coming in from the large windows overlooking the city. Around the table were the very masculine chairs, which were all dark leather and tufted with large gold buttons. I thought that maybe one day I'd walk in here and see Hugh Hefner sitting in one wearing a red velvet smoking jacket, a cigar in one hand, a glass of whisky in the other.
I released the folders that almost plummeted to the floor…twice. Looking around, I realized, this was it…this was my life. No hospital, no doctor's office. I didn't do the college thing. I gave it up, for one weekend that was life changing. "Was it worth it, Elleny?" I asked myself out loud "Was it worth what you have become, a secretary?"
"Who are you talking to, Elle?" Laurie whispered in her already quiet voice, afraid that she was disrupting a conversation. She looked around for who I was carrying on with.
"Ah, Laurie… I'm sorry; just talking to myself; you know, just having a moment." I admitted as I felt my cheeks turn red from realizing she was listening to me drown in my own self-pity.
"Well, just so you know, Mr. Stevens' clients were stepping off the elevator as I was coming in here, so you better wrap up the pep talk."
Smiling at her with a smile that broke through my still red cheeks, I graciously thanked her for helping with the set up as I left the room to go finish getting everything we needed for this meeting.
Heading down the hallway, I heard Mr. Stevens welcoming the clients out in the reception area. The older gentleman was introducing himself to Mr. Stevens, but I wasn't really paying attention, since I had about two hundred things on my mind. I did catch him asking about the direction of the restroom though. I grabbed my memory stick with the power-point presentation on it and headed back to the conference room.
I walked the hallway thinking that the clients had gone to the restroom so I neede
d to double check with Loren if he needed the packets passed out now or if he wanted me to wait until after the presentation "Loren, do you want the-"
I stopped right in my tracks, like I had just walked into fast setting concrete. Looking at me sitting down in the head chair was not Hugh Hefner in a red velvet smoking jacket, holding a cigar in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other, it was the man whose name I vowed never to speak again. And told to his face, I never wanted to see again.
Trevor McHale!
Fuck… oh please, God no… oh fuck … no, no, no, no…!!
Sitting there, not even ten feet away from me in his fifteen hundred dollar suit, his hair was cut short, all the blonde curls were gone but his hair was the same brown. Hazel eyes that still had more green then brown. Shit! Have I missed staring into those eyes. The small little dimple right below his left eye was still there, although, his nose was different. He had it fixed. It was straight and the bump on top of it is gone. Nevertheless, you could tell it was him. TJ, here in the flesh, and he's still so gorgeous!! Of course, he's older but he still had that beautiful face, the one I held in my hands time and time again to look deep into eyes that held my future. Everything that was my happiness since second grade was sitting right across the room from me and I couldn't do anything about it.
In what seemed like hours but actually turns out to be seconds, I saw every memory that was filed in my mind containing TJ McHale. All the dreams, that for the past months I've been having, come back to me in a flood. Every touch, I have felt on my body, every space of skin I've touched on his…places I've kissed. The way his muscles would tense as I would gently run my fingers down and over them.
I didn't know whether to run out in a panic, stay where I was, or scream and cry like a two year old. I mentally grabbed ahold of my shoulders, shook them and assured myself; he won't say a thing, just keep calm and walk. Damn it Elleny, cowgirl the fuck up!
"Elleny, I would like to introduce you to Mr. Trevor McHale of the Mac-Gentry Firm, Mr. McHale, this is Elleny Harper-Jackson; my assistant."
