The fifty thousand and the chance for more must have had her Aunty Liddy salivating. She’d probably thought she was set for life. That she had a source she could tap anytime. How furious she must have been when her very first request was denied.
But as Sara worked shampoo through her hair, she wondered where the fifty thousand had gone. They’d never lived lavishly. As best she could recall, they’d lived in apartments barely big enough to fit the five of them. She’d shared a room with Alexia and Allene until Lexie got married at seventeen and moved out. Sara had been fourteen at the time and grossed out by the pimply-faced boy Lexie claimed she couldn’t live without. Ally had left a year later to make her mark in Nashville. Sara had vague memories of missing Ally, missing hearing her sing.
Strange, she mused, as she rinsed the shampoo out of her hair. She hadn’t thought about those two in forever. Had lumped them with their mother, their brother, the bad times. Because of that, she’d also let go of the happier times when it was just the three girls. Times when her aunt was off with her latest guy and Russell was hanging with his loser friends. That was the story of her life, wasn’t it? Burying everything that happened in the past to keep from having anything to bury in the future. Pathetic. More so because it hadn’t worked. It had only delayed the return of the memory of her parents’ deaths.
Deep in thought, she dried off and pulled on clean sweats. Settling on the sofa, she meant to grab the remote, do some channel surfing. She really did. But she wasn’t terribly surprised when instead she grabbed the phone and dialed Mikaela’s number. “It’s Sara. Hope I, uh, didn’t call at a bad time.”
“As if you could. I was doing some reading, losing myself in someone else’s more glamorous life. What’s up?”
She gripped the phone tightly. “Don’t think I’m crazy, but not sure why I called. I got…a strange call earlier tonight. Threw me off.”
“Are you in trouble?”
“Not the way you mean. It’s just that this year’s been…different. Not even through January and my past has turned into something I never knew. My parents didn’t die in an auto accident and my aunt did get money to take me in. Seems she treated me like crap because the old man wouldn’t fork over more. And then there’s the old man throwing out money because there wasn’t anyone on my dad’s side of the family who could be bothered to see about his daughter. Do I have a great family or what? And why do I care?” Sara took a breath. “Sorry. Didn’t call to dump all over you.”
“Sounds like you took a knock. It says a lot that you thought to call me. Dump away.”
“I didn’t know I knew how to dump. How pathetic is that? Holding everything inside till I blow.”
“We all cope in different ways. Me, I talk and talk and talk. Bet you never noticed that.”
Sara exhaled. This was what she needed. “Maybe a little.”
“You’re probably wondering right now if I ever shut up.”
“Wrong. I was thinking that calling you was the right thing to do, smarty pants.”
“That’s a start. Have you figured out who you’re madder at between the old man and your aunt?”
“Her. I never met him, and in his defense, it sounds like he might have been frail at the time my parents died. Aunt Liddy? There was nothing frail about her, wailing all the time about the sacrifices she made to take me in. Fifty thousand’s a sacrifice all right. She must have blown through the money sooner than expected, then got her feelings hurt when the old man refused to fork over more. What I can’t figure out is what she did with the money. I remember grocery shopping and her separating out the items she could pay for with food stamps. Just about everything else we bought came from one of those charity-type stores. It seems like that woman was always looking for a handout. If not from the government, then from one of the loser men she’d bring around. I never wanted to be like her. Got my first job at fourteen. Gave her a little money when she bitched and moaned, but saved as much as I could.”
“She sounds ‘positively charming,’ as my grandmother would say.”
“The most. She had no right to treat me that way. No right at all. And I wasn’t a burden, no matter what she said. It was her, never me. I was only a kid.” Sara rubbed her cheeks, feeling the anger burning bright. Anger she’d never really dealt with while her aunt was alive.
“Exactly. She’s the one who accepted the responsibility and didn’t follow through. That’s on her. You have every right to be angry. Don’t think for one hot second you don’t.”
“You would have made a great Crusader.”
“Doubtful. Honey, those people were crazy. And while I can be a little touched in my own way, I ain’t that crazy.”
“Only a little touched?”
“Yes. And since this is not about me, I hope you feel better.”
“I do. Bet you didn’t think you were going to get the long answer, huh? Now you’re the one wondering if I’ll ever shut up.”
“Wrong. I’m thinking you bought the ‘strong, silent type’ bull. You’ve buried these feelings so long, it’s no wonder they’re spewing like a geyser now. That’s a good thing, Sara. Get it up, get it out, get it gone. Do you know what happens to the strong, silent types? I’ll tell you. They turn into serial killers. Ever hear of one who talked all the time?”
“So you mean spewing all over you saved me from being a killer? Isn’t that a stretch?”
“Be skeptical if you will. I only speak the truth.”
“Then it sounds like I need to be paying for the movie Saturday. You saved me from a life of killing after all.”
“Don’t even try it. I am letting you drive, oh butchly one.”
Sara laughed. “Got me there. Hope I get the chance to see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll have to try and make that happen. Sweet dreams.”
“They will be now.” Sara dumped the phone on the sofa, pulled Tab into her lap and scratched behind her ears. “Life’s not so bad. But I don’t have to tell you that.”
* * *
Mikaela placed the phone on the end table, the book in her lap forgotten. She could have told Sara she knew about women who pretended they were going to do the right thing and didn’t. Her mother had done it. Pretended to want her child until it hadn’t been convenient, hadn’t fit with the life she wanted to return to.
Mikaela had been thirteen when she’d found out why she didn’t have a mother. Until then, she’d assumed her mother, who was never spoken of, was dead. She had a friend of Lisa’s to thank for bringing her down with the truth.
She could remember how hurt and angry she’d been when her grandmother admitted her mother had abandoned her. How it was the only way for her mother to regain acceptance and support from her conservative parents.
For a couple of months, Mikaela had been mad at the world. It didn’t help when her period showed up shortly after the revelation. All she knew was that her temper got stuck on hot and her eyes never seemed to dry. Looking back, those few months were easily the worst time of her life. She didn’t doubt her relatives would agree it had been the worst time of their lives as well.
Eventually, she got over herself and realized what she was doing to her beloved grandmother, to the family that loved her. She’d put that woman out of her mind and set about making amends. Probably easier to do when you were surrounded by love, she thought. In that regard she was much luckier than Sara had been.
Hearing Casey’s footsteps, she looked up. “Well, well, well. Look who finally found her way back home.”
Casey shut the door with her butt. “Jealous much?”
“As if. Though you do have that rosy glow. What have you been up to, young lady?” She laughed as Casey’s cheeks turned red. “Never mind. Answer’s written all over your face. I should be asking why you’re here.”
“Early meeting and clean clothes.” Casey draped her garment bag across the chair. “Anything new with you?”
“A movie date with Sara on Saturday and dinner at her place next We
dnesday.”
“You wow her with your cooking or did something happen after dinner?” Casey wiggled her eyebrows.
“Hey, I’m good company outside the bed too. She’s slowly coming around to my view of world order.”
“Good.” Casey sat on the arm of the sofa. “I wouldn’t want to have to flex my muscles, have the ‘don’t make me hurt you’ talk with her.”
“Yeah.”
“Hey, Beth’s been called back for a second interview. You interested in catching happy hour tomorrow?”
“Perfect. I finished the project for Bill. Barring any major changes, it should be put to bed by tomorrow. Just going by Talya and Jolene’s reactions, I aced it and therefore deserve adult beverages.”
“Absolutely. I’ll give you a call, let you know the time. I figure you can either come to my office, or I’ll pick you up and we can ride together.”
“That works.”
Chapter Fifteen
By four o’clock Friday, Mikaela was watching the phone, waiting for Casey’s call. She’d had a great day so far and was ready to top it off by hitting happy hour and hitting it hard. Maybe she could talk Beth into dinner after, so they could discuss books again. No dancing this time. She wanted to be fresh for her date with Sara.
“Date.” God, her life just kept getting better.
Mikaela snatched up the ringing phone when she saw Casey’s name on caller ID. “Please tell me we’re still on.”
“Rockfort Saloon,” Casey replied. “Come to my office after you get off and we’ll fight our way north from there.”
“I can be there in thirty minutes tops. Fair warning, I’ll be the one ordering something bubbly.”
“What are we celebrating?”
“Kicking asses and taking names. I’ll explain later, but you’d better hope the size of my head goes down so I can fit in that big bruiser of yours.”
“I have WD-40. We’ll squeeze you in somehow.”
“You’re too kind.”
“Yeah, it’s a problem. Later, Big Head.”
“That’s Ms. Big Head to you.” Smiling, Mikaela replaced the receiver. Rockfort fit her mood. It would be loud and crowded—the perfect place to celebrate. She grabbed her pocketbook. Time to refresh her makeup.
She pushed open the bathroom door, feeling energized. Her steps faltered as she spotted Ilene and Christine having what looked to be a hushed conversation. They must have heard about this morning, she thought, and she returned their baleful glares with a smile and a wave. She slipped into the stall farthest from them, prepared to wait them out. No way she needed them to attempt to kick the shine off her halo.
After a couple minutes of loitering, she gave up. They were going to outwait her. They were standing in the same spot, eyes trained on her. “You need something from me?”
“Everything is not about you,” Ilene said.
“Unlike you, I know that.” Mikaela placed her pocketbook by the sink and put her hands on her hips. Obviously she was not going to get out of here without a fight. “For some reason I thought since you’re standing here, trying to stare me down, that you might have something to say. My bad.” With a dismissive flip of her wrist, she turned her back on them.
“We know what you did,” Christine said as Mikaela washed her hands. “Walking around here like you own the place. It doesn’t matter how Dennis tries to spin this to make you seem innocent. We know you’re not.”
She took the time to dry her hands. “Funny. I know what I did too. I used my knowledge and experience to do a damn good job. Not only on this last project, but every day. What I haven’t been doing is spending my time spreading lies that make me look stupid and desperate. You want to talk about me for doing that, go ahead. Do your worst. Oh wait, you already tried that and failed.”
“You should be careful what you wish for,” Christine said with a tight smile.
“What I wish for? I’ll tell you what I wish for, and that’s for the two of you to get a life and stay out of mine.” Mikaela held up her hand when Ilene opened her mouth. “You don’t want my inner bitch to slip her leash, so shut it. Y’all have a nice weekend.” She flashed a smile as fake as plastic flowers and sailed out.
She’d have to find a synonym for “worse than pathetic” because that’s what they were. People too pathetic to know they were pathetic. But not now. Now it was time to leave work and its irritating problems behind. She was more than ready to toast her accomplishments, which now included squishing The Two under her heels without getting her shoes dirty.
* * *
The Rockfort Saloon was packed when Mikaela and Casey arrived at five thirty. As usual Friday rush-hour traffic had been horrendous, so to Mikaela it seemed apropos that they had to fight their way through the loud crowd around the bar to join Suzette and Beth.
After exchanging greetings, it was decided that Beth and Suzette, who already had drinks, would grab a table on the sheltered patio while Casey and Mikaela waited in line for their drinks.
“Champagne?” Casey asked. “My treat.”
Mikaela’s earlier words had been forgotten after a glimpse of the special: a King Kong–sized margarita. “Changed my mind. I’ll have one of those.” She pointed to a group of women toasting one another. They made the drink look festive and she wanted that. “With salt.”
“You got it.” Casey leaned over the bar to shout her order to one of the four bartenders.
They found the patio was only marginally quieter.
“Beth, how did it go?” Casey asked once they were squeezed around a table meant for two.
Beth beamed. “Unless I misread the signs, they’re going to offer me the position. They promised to let me know either way by Tuesday.”
“A toast to Beth,” Suzette said and raised her glass of wine. The others followed suit.
“But Beth’s not the only one with something to celebrate.” Casey looked at Mikaela.
“True.” She told them about having an hour to pull together a presentation about the meeting materials, the knocking of her knees as she walked in to find not just Bill, Talya and some bigwig from HQ but all the managers as well. “I tell you, it was nerve-racking to have them all looking at me. Kind of like a pop quiz. But as it turned out, I slayed the beast, and— unofficially—it seems I talked my way into a job.”
“You know it was more than talk.” Casey nudged her with her elbow. “There was good work to back up the talk.”
“Much to the chagrin of some people.” Mikaela lifted her glass high. “Here’s to kick-ass presentations that impress the ones in power.”
“Hear, hear.” Beth raised her bottle of beer. “To a successful day and good friends.”
Mikaela took a healthy sip of her frothy drink and found it to be exactly what she needed. “Today is a great day. It’ll be a better day when Beth moves down here.”
“And yet another good thing to drink to,” Beth said.
“Most things are,” Casey said. “I got assigned to a high-profile case today.”
“You could have said so sooner. To Casey.” Mikaela raised her glass. “And you, Suzette?”
“My mother’s threatening to come for a visit. But that’s not something to toast. Drink to, yes.” Suzette finished off her wine.
“I’ll get you a refill,” Casey said. “Anyone else?”
Beth held up her hand.
“So you and your mom don’t get along?”
“We get along fine. Especially if she’s in another city.” Suzette looked over her shoulder, then turned back to Mikaela. “I think she wants to vet Casey. She and Lisa never quite saw eye to eye, so I’d like to delay the meeting with Casey as long as possible.”
“Don’t worry. Everybody loves Casey. They can’t help themselves.”
“It’s true.” Beth reached for Suzette’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I love her already.”
Suzette smiled. “You love anyone who buys you a beer.”
“You’d think people would move away from th
e bar once they got their drink,” Casey grumbled and placed a beer in front of Beth, then handed Suzette her wine. “Anybody else ready for food? I missed lunch.”
“We could leave them here, go to the other side and grab dinner,” Suzette said. “This early we shouldn’t have any trouble getting a table.”
“Works for me,” Beth said.
Mikaela raised her drink.
Inside, they fought their way through the bar crowd to the more subdued restaurant section. The restaurant was richly appointed with a combination of wood and leather, a direct contrast to the flashy, modern-looking bar side they’d come from. As Suzette had predicted, they were quickly seated.
Mikaela opened the menu and winced at the prices. She was going to have to rework her credit card payoff spreadsheet after paying for dinner tonight, then tomorrow’s movie and possibly dinner after. But spreadsheets were meant to be changed. And if she limited herself to water, the hit wouldn’t be nearly as bad. Plus once she got the new job, she’d be making more money and have to change it anyway, thus evening out everything. How she loved, loved, loved rationalizations. That and the tilapia stuffed with a creamy crab sauce that she was going to order.
Their efficient waiter who wore a crisp white shirt and black slacks that matched his bowtie, brought them water, took their order and bowed before gliding away.
“Good service,” Mikaela said, squeezing lemon juice into her water. Though it and the food should be, given the prices.
She need not have worried. The food was excellent and consumed amid conversation about what the weekend might hold.
Her stomach pleasantly full, Mikaela regretfully declined the sinful-looking desserts, even as the dark chocolate mousse screamed her name. To her delighted surprise, Suzette picked up the check.
As they once again fought through the crowd in the bar area to get to the back parking lot, Mikaela came face to face with Nina. When she tried to slide by with a nod, Nina’s hand shot out and clamped on her wrist. She decided then and there that Atlanta was too small for the both of them.
“What’s the rush?”
Full Circle Page 19
