Boss on Notice
Page 22
She sighed and poured more coffee. Sleep had been elusive through the night. At least Ian agrees with me. Stifling a yawn, she sipped coffee and watched as Ian picked through his breakfast. He had the spoon down pat. Cheesy grits made it from bowl to mouth without a drop. Maybe she should keep him home from day care today.
There was a constant undercurrent of unease running through her. Ghosts of the past or a mother’s instinct, she couldn’t tell. Keith was not a burglar. Nor was he a computer expert. He’d been a bouncer at a strip club and a low-level drug dealer. Not that he’d told her that. Security was what he’d told her he did for a living. She rolled her eyes at her gullibility. She could easily imagine him showing up at her parents’ house and trying to scare some information out of them. But breaking in? Stealing the laptop? And hacking in to locate IP addresses? That seemed beyond his capabilities.
A day locked up in the house alone seemed to guarantee nothing but a cranky Ian and an exhausted mommy. But that unease still sat at the bottom of her gut. Maybe the day care would let her help out for the day. Then she and Ian would be together behind locked doors with an emergency alarm wired directly to the police department. She shook her head. You’re being a coward. You promised yourself. You promised Ian you wouldn’t cower in fear and miss out on having a life.
Her phone vibrated and her heart rate went soaring. Snatching it up, she let out a sigh of relief. It was Diane, the single mom who wanted a roommate.
“Hey,” she said, forcing herself to sound normal. “Thanks for calling me back.”
“Sorry it took so long to get back to you. We were visiting my parents in Rock Hill. I’m also sorry to tell you that I found a roommate already.”
“Oh. Okay. Darn. I’m sorry, too. Sorry I couldn’t commit sooner. If it falls through, let me know, okay?”
“Will do.”
Well, there goes that plan. She ended the call and sighed, leaning forward on her elbows and covering her face with her hands. Thing is, she didn’t want to move. She liked this place. She liked the neighborhood. It was quiet. Safe. School and day care were both a short walk away. It was on the bus route for when the weather got bad. If only it wasn’t right next door to Josh.
Ian had finished his grits. “Done, Mommy,” he said, holding the empty bowl out to her.
“I see that. Good job. Drink your milk now.”
She got up to rinse out the bowl. She shook her head. Nope. We’re going to run business as usual today. Play hooky. “Whatcha say, Ian? You want to stay home today? Hang out with Mommy? We can go to the library and get some books and movies? Does that sound like fun?”
“Fun!”
The fear would never go away. She’d learned to live with it. But she never went anywhere without being hyperaware of her surroundings. She never entered a room without hesitating in the doorway and checking out who was inside. Out in public, there was a spot between her shoulders that always felt like there was a target on it. Sometimes the fear was barely a whisper. Sometimes it sat on her shoulder, as it did now as she maneuvered the stroller down the sidewalk.
Luck was on her side today. They hit the library just as the children’s reading hour began. Ian took his spot in the circle and Mickie was able to try to relax at a nearby table. Her heart just about burst with love as she watched him sitting with the other children. Innocent to the dangers in this world. He was turning out to be a good kid. By the time she finished nursing school, he’d be ready for pre-K. She’d buy a small house in a good school district. A new car. A puppy. A big puppy that would grow up to be Ian’s best friend. All she had to do was keep herself focused on that goal. Maybe she should get a book about dog breeds. She wanted one that was good with kids, protective without being aggressive, and...
Her phone buzzing in her backpack startled her from the light doze she’d slipped into. Panicked, she looked around, seeking out Ian. He still sat in the circle, but the story hour was coming to an end. The call went to voice mail before she could catch it. She waited until Ian came running to her.
“All done?” she asked.
“The bunny founded his home,” Ian told her with all the seriousness he could muster.
She scooped him up and balanced him on a hip. “That’s awesome. Let’s get these things checked out and we’ll go home for some lunch, okay?”
Once they left the library, Ian settled happily into the stroller. He’d been demanding to walk more often, but the closer to nap time, the more willing he was to ride. She took her phone out as she pushed the stroller toward home. Her heart sunk. Wyatt.
She didn’t bother to listen to the voice mail. She immediately called back. “Sorry. I was in the library and couldn’t answer. What’s up?”
“Where are you right now?”
Fear turned her insides to ice. “Walking home. About three blocks away.” She stepped up her pace.
“Okay. Still don’t need to hit the panic button, but Keith missed his phone-in contact today. His parole officer met with him at the usual time yesterday, which was at noon. He was supposed to call in before ten this morning.”
“So he could have been gone for almost twenty-four hours now,” Mickie said. More than enough time to drive from Wisconsin.
“Yes. Like I said, let’s not panic yet, but I think we need to get a safety plan in place. Do you have anyone you can stay with for the next few days?”
Tiana came to mind. And so did the old fear of putting innocent people in harm’s way. It was one of his most frequent threats: that he knew where her parents and her friends lived. “Um. Maybe. I’d have to check.”
“What about Josh? Or one of the Crew? Josh is right next door. Could you stay with him? Or maybe he could stay at your place?”
“I don’t think that’s necessary. He’s right next door.”
And yeah, not to mention that it wasn’t going to happen. The shame she felt throwing herself at him outweighed her fear at the moment.
“Okay. Go home. Lock up. Sit tight. I’ll let Josh know what’s...”
“No. I’ll tell him.”
“Will you?”
She crossed her fingers. “Yes.”
“I’m not sure you will, Mickie.”
“I will. When it’s necessary.”
Wyatt’s heavy sigh was clear through the phone. “If that’s how you need it to be.”
“It is.”
“Give me a few hours. I’ll call you back. In the meantime, if you even think something is wrong, call Josh. Call the police, promise me.”
“I promise.”
Ending the call, Mickie pushed the phone into the front pocket of her jeans. Wrapping icy fingers around the stroller’s handles, she lifted her head and straightened her back. “Let’s make a quick run by the grocery store, okay, Ian? We’re going to need snacks.”
She was hunkering down. This was familiar. When she’d been released from the hospital after the beating, she’d lived in her old bedroom for more than three months. Trips to the kitchen for food or bathroom were terrifying ordeals. Once she’d been diagnosed with PTSD and put on medication along with therapy, she’d put her life back together. Then came the incident at the hospital. She knew what she needed. Supplies. Lock down. Hunker down. Wait it out.
Later today or tomorrow, Wyatt would call. Keith would have been found drunk or high, shacked up with some meth head he’d met at a bar. Maybe tossed back in jail for violating parole. And the paranoia would recede and she’d get back on track. Work. School. Living.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
THE TRIP TO Sumter and Mr. Gathers’ farm was much more pleasant now that he knew where he was going. It also gave him a place to be this weekend instead of listening for the sound of her voice through the walls. Josh revved the bike up to that magic moment where he and the road were one. He could forget about Mickie. Forge
t about how empty the past few days had seemed without her at the kitchen table, answering phones and flipping those index cards. There was no thought beyond the next few feet of blacktop. Leaning into long, slow curves. Lush green fields passing in a blur. Small moments caught. A small boy waving from a porch. A hawk swooping low over an overgrown field.
Mr. Gathers was waiting on the shady front porch as Josh puttered up the long driveway. He parked the bike under the branches of the same massive oak tree that shaded the porch and stashed his gear.
“Mr. Gathers,” he said, greeting the old man as he came down the porch steps.
“No need for all that. Just call me Nate. Everyone does.”
They sat on the porch in the rocking chairs, sipping iced tea and making small talk about the crops and the heat for a while. A deep peace settled over Josh as he rocked. The sound of the wind in the trees, the occasional high shrill of a cicada and the faint swoosh of a car as it passed by on the highway were soothing in a way he would never have expected.
Nate put down his glass on the little table between the chairs with a clink. “I have a confession to make,” he said.
Josh smiled as he looked over. “Yeah?”
“I do. When you were out here last time, you caught me off guard.”
“Sorry about that,” Josh said. He had shown up completely unannounced. “I was grasping at straws at that point.”
Nate waved off the apology. “No, no. Not that. Well, yeah, that. But what I mean is that I didn’t tell you all the truth.”
“About my parents?”
“No,” Nate said with a slow shake of his head. “See, I’ve met your sister.”
The words sank in slowly. Josh stared at the man, feeling slow and stupid. The whole world seemed to freeze for a moment. He shook his head slightly to jump-start his brain. “You met her?”
“Couple years ago. In fact, she sat right there in that very same chair you’re sitting in now.”
Josh looked down and rubbed the palm of his hand along the arm of the chair. “I don’t understand. She was here?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when you were here, but like I said, you took me by surprise. Her daddy brought her here. She was, oh, eighteen or nineteen around then.”
“Wait.” Josh held up a hand. “So she knows about—about our parents?”
“Yes, she does. Her parents had told her bits over the years and they were telling her that last hard truth. They came out pretty much for the same reason you did. Trying to understand what happened.”
Josh rubbed a hand across his mouth. Trying to grasp the enormity of this information. Nate seemed to understand this and quietly set his chair to rocking. He thought about the letter in his desk drawer. She knows. This changes everything. His thoughts seemed to scatter. He knew he should say something. Ask some questions. All he could think though was she knows.
“You okay over there?” Nate asked after a few minutes.
“Yes. I think so. Pretty shocked.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before now. But I didn’t know—”
“No, no,” Josh said, interrupting. “I understand. I kind of showed up out of the blue. You had no idea if I was who I said I was or if I was...whatever.”
Or if I was like my father. Those were the words he’d tripped over. Nate had been a cop all his life. He surely knew how the world worked. The cycle of abuse and abusers from one generation to the next. No, he didn’t blame the man for not telling him about Kim that first day.
“Exactly,” Nate said pointedly but not without a hint of humor. “But when I did know who you are, I needed to make things right. I had to tell you.”
“I understand.” Josh blew out a cleansing breath. “Wow. I don’t know what to... What’s she like?”
A raging curiosity swept over him now that the initial shock had passed. His sister had been right here on this very porch. It seemed unreal and overwhelming at the same time.
Nate took a slow slip of his tea. “Well, son, I could tell you all about her. Or you could find out yourself.”
Frowning at the smiling old man, Josh leaned forward. “I don’t understand.”
“After I...knew who you were,” Nate said with a smile, “I talked to her father.”
Everything inside him went still and quiet. “You told them I had been here?” he asked through numb lips.
“Yes, I did.”
“And?”
“Your sister is here. She wants to meet you right now. I didn’t know if you’d be ready so I was trying to ease you into it.”
Josh was on his feet, looking around. “She’s here? Where?”
Nate stood with a chuckle. “I’m guessing that means yes.”
“Yes. That means yes.”
He could barely contain the feelings that were crashing within him. Excitement. Joy. Relief. He had to restrain himself from running down the porch steps. After all these years. After all his agonizing. She’d come to him.
“Come on, then,” Nate said.
Josh followed him through the house to the back porch. As they stepped down on the small patio there, Nate pointed at the path between two fields of tobacco. “If you follow that path to the end of the field and go left, you’ll see a line of trees and a pond. She’s waiting down at the pond.”
Looking out over the green fields, Josh spotted the stand of tall trees. Kim was there. So close after all these years. He stood rooted to the spot, though, shifting his weight from foot to foot, unable to take that first step. Nate’s hand closed gently on his shoulder.
“Go on, son. It’s going to be okay.”
“What do I say?”
“I’d start with hello, but that’s just me,” Nate said with a grin.
It made Josh laugh, which seemed to break the paralysis that held him in place. Taking in a deep breath, ignoring his suddenly pounding heart, he walked across the small lawn to the fields. Once out from under the sheltering oaks, the sun was hot on his skin. He slowed his pace, still trying to believe this was real. Everything seemed hyperreal. The sun too hot. The green too green. There was a fecund, slightly sweet smell in the air. The smell of a farm? City-boy Josh didn’t know.
At the end of the field, there was another path to the left. Turning, he saw the line of trees ahead and the greenish brown glint of a Low Country pond. He remembered Sadie’s walk to meet her mother. Or rather confront her. He hadn’t realized the extent of Sadie’s bravery until this very moment. As excited he was to finally find his sister, part of him wanted to turn around, get on his bike and ride away as fast and far as possible. Because once it became real...
He stopped. A young woman was sitting on a bench next to the pond, tossing something into the water, causing circular ripples. His heart was about to pound out of his chest and a trembling made him stuff his hands in his back pockets. That’s Kimmie. Right in front of me. He tried to call her name but his mouth was suddenly dry and he only managed a strangled croak. Then she looked over.
And smiled.
He stood staring at her. She was taller than he expected. Maybe Sadie’s height. Her dark hair was up in a ponytail full of ringlets that made him smile.
She began to walk toward him and he made his feet move. They stopped a few feet from each other.
“You look like our mother,” he said.
“Really? You remember her?”
Her voice was sweet and kind. She sounded exactly how he imagined a schoolteacher should sound. “Not really,” he said. “I remembered right when I saw you.” He stepped closer. Her eyes were blue, like his. “I can’t believe you’re really here. I’ve been looking for you for a long time.”
And then, she was in his arms. He wasn’t big on hugging people, but she’d thrown her arms around his shoulders and it had seemed like he needed noth
ing in the world more than to hold on to her. Everything went away. This was his sister. She looked like him. They had the same blood in their veins. The same past. Tears stung at his eyes.
When she stepped back, they both wiped at their eyes. She laughed. “Wow. This is crazy, huh?”
“That’s a good word. I feel like I’m dreaming.”
She took his hand. “Come sit down. I have a million questions.”
They settled on the bench. Josh saw a bag of cracked corn on the ground. “You were feeding the fish,” he said.
“He’s got some bass in there. So tame he can probably net them out of the water.” She threw a handful on the water and there was a flurry of circular ripples. “Did I call you Yoss?”
He laughed. “Yes. Used to drive me crazy. One of my clearest memories is of holding a jar of grape jelly and pointing at it. You’d say ‘jelly’ and I’d point at myself and you’d say ‘Yoss.’”
She smiled but it dimmed quickly. “I don’t remember anything other than that. When I was about fifteen, my parents told me about you. They didn’t know much. That you existed. They didn’t know that until a few days after they got me. The social worker didn’t tell them. It wasn’t in the paper, but it was on the news. They contacted the social worker to tell them they would take you, too, but nothing ever came of it.”
“Yeah. I was moved around a lot. I had ‘behavioral issues.’” He made finger quotes around the words.
Kim gave him an incredulous stare. “Ya think? They should have been worried if you hadn’t had issues.”
Shrugging, Josh threw a handful of feed out to the fish. “I managed.”
“Do you remember that night?”
He brushed the corn dust off his hands. “Yeah.”
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I’m trying to understand.”
“No. It’s okay.” He tilted his head back to look up at the sky through a lush canopy of green. The familiar knot of dread, fear and anger tightened in his gut. “I was five, so I only remember little bits. Just moments. Like looking at a picture.”