Wish List

by Fern Michaels

  “Yeah, I know. It could be worse, Jake. She could have corralled you, too.”

  “Nah. I told my father how much I don’t like her and Emily. I told him I wasn’t going up to the big house anymore. I told my mother, too. My mother told my father I didn’t have to go there if I didn’t want to go. My father tried to tell me it was a charitable thing to do. He meant keeping Emily company. All she does is whine and cry. You have to let her win every game or Miz Windsor gets mad. I’m seventeen, and I think I’m a little old to be playing Parcheesi. I can’t stand that girl. She isn’t even nice to Miz Windsor. My parents would ground me for a month if I sassed them the way Emily sasses her mother.”

  “When you’re sick you can do whatever you want.” Trinity gave Jake such a push he sailed forward on his bike. “I heard Emily is sweet on you. Like in really sweet. Marie told me the last time they were up there all Emily wanted to do was talk about you until Miz Windsor made her stop and told her you were too busy with your paper route and all that kind of stuff. Marie said Emily kicked and screamed and said she wanted you there NOW. You must be hot stuff, Jake Forrest. I don’t know how she can think that. You’re so homely, with all those freckles and that hair of yours that stands straight up.”

  Jake flushed. “You’re only twelve years old. You shouldn’t be talking about stuff like that. If I’m homely, then you’re downright ugly, with those spaces between your teeth and that pigtail. You have freckles on your nose, too. Look how skinny you are! You look like a stick of spaghetti.”

  Trinity stopped in her tracks, hands on her hips. “I can whup your ass with one hand tied behind me. You take that back, Jake Forrest.”

  “Not in this lifetime, Trinny Ninny.” Jake pedaled as fast as he could on the shale road because he knew she was going to make good on her threat. “Okay, okay, I didn’t mean it. You’re beautiful even if you do have spaces between your teeth. I’m getting a haircut tomorrow. Truce, Trinny.” He was looking over his shoulder and knew his words weren’t getting through to the skinny girl. From the determined look on her face, he knew she was going to whup his ass. How was that going to look to the others when they found out? And they would find out because Trinny Ninny would make sure she told them. Not good, that was for sure. He slid on the shale and once again was on the ground, Trinity standing over him. He looked up and was stunned to see Trinny’s eyes glistening with tears. Oh, shit! He rolled over and got to his feet. “Okay, take your best shot,” he said cavalierly.

  Trinny strode past him. “You aren’t worth it, you jerk!”

  “Aw, c’mon, Trinny, give it up. I’m sorry. Maybe I am homely. Who cares? Let’s go riding, or we can hit balls. I’ll pitch to you.”

  Trinny pounced and was in his face within seconds. “Are you really sorry, or did you just say that?”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry, but you are skinny. I guess you can’t help that. Neither one of us can do anything about our freckles. Sooner or later your teeth will grow together. If they don’t, you can always get braces. So, do you want to go riding, or do you want to hit some balls?”

  Trinity thought about the question. What she really wanted to do was go swimming in the pond, but there was no way she was going to let Jake Forrest see her skinny body in a bathing suit. He’d laugh himself silly, and she’d cry all night long. “Why don’t you just go home and build your character some more by mowing the grass.”

  “If that’s the way you feel about it, I will. Not that my character needs building, either. Who’s being a jerk now?” With that, Jake turned his bike around and headed down the shale road. He pedaled slowly to make sure he didn’t slip again. Trinny would be laughing into next week if that happened. He stopped once, turned around, and waved at his young friend. He felt a lump form in his throat when she didn’t wave back.

  When Jake arrived home ahead of schedule, he walked around to the back of the house, where his mother was working in one of the flowerbeds.

  “Was the ball game canceled, Jake? You’re home early. ”

  Jake sat down on the grass and hugged his knees. “Things didn’t work out. The witch got to the guys first. There was just me and Trinny. We got into . . . a thing, and we both said some things to each other. I hurt her feelings, and she hurt mine.”

  “Jake, please don’t call Mrs. Windsor a witch. Why in the world would you say anything unkind to Trinity? I know she’s younger than you are, but that’s no excuse. Little girls have feelings. On top of that, I do believe she has a bit of a crush on you. That’s not like you. Well, Jake?”

  He plucked at a blade of grass and put it between his fingers and whistled. His mother did her best to hide her smile. “She said I was homely and my hair stuck up or something like that.”

  . Nola Forrest’s smile blossomed as she plunged the trowel into the soft, loamy earth. “Your hair does stand up on end. You were supposed to get a haircut a week ago. You aren’t homely, you’re rather cute. I think that’s what Trinity was trying to say.”

  “Jeez, Mom, you didn’t hear her. That’s not what she was trying to say. I was there, and she was mad.”

  “Did you apologize?”

  “Yeah, up one side and down the other. She wasn’t buying it, so I came home. How come I have to mow the lawn when we have a gardener?”

  Nola smiled again. “Because I said so.” Jake rolled his eyes as he made his way to the toolshed to pull out the lawn mower.

  As hard as he tried, Jake couldn’t get Trinny’s tear-filled eyes out of his mind. He pushed the mower with a vengeance. He looked over at his mother several times. She waved and smiled.

  Seven months later he was standing at the cemetery saying good-bye to his mother. Trinny, wearing a dress and a hat, was there with the Hendersons. She looked so silly he almost laughed, but it was hard to laugh when you were grieving for your mother. He raised his eyes to look across at his aunt Mitzi, his mother’s younger sister. He wished he could leap over the yawning hole in the ground and fall into her arms. Mitzi could always make things better. Suddenly he felt his father’s hand on his arm. He jerked it away. His eyes were still on Mitzi, who had lifted her black veil and shook her head slightly. That look meant he was to cool it.

  When it was all over, and he could no longer stem the flow of tears, he made his way to Mitzi’s side. “Can I go home with you, Mitzi? I don’t want . . . I can’t . . .”

  “No problem, kiddo. You better tell your father, though.”

  “I’m not telling him anything. In case you haven’t noticed, he isn’t exactly grieving. And what in the damn hell is she doing here?”

  Six different answers tickled Mitzi Granger’s lips, but she didn’t utter any of them. It wasn’t the day to stir up a hornet’s nest. “The whole town is here, Jake. Everyone loved your mother. It’s called paying your respects.”

  Jake came out of his reverie and carried his beer bottle out to the kitchen. It was fully dark now. He walked around, turning lights on throughout the apartment. He craned his neck to see if Elway was still on the couch. He was. Before he forgot, he rummaged in a drawer for his digital camera and proceeded to take pictures of the old tomcat from every angle.

  Sometimes things worked out really well. Other times, no matter what you did, things just went to hell.

  “Where are you, Trinity Henderson? I wonder if you ever knew about the crush I had on you,” Jake muttered as he headed off to the shower.

  Four

  Jake Forrest groaned in his sleep and rolled over. Was that burned bacon and coffee he smelled? Since he lived alone with the exception of Elway’s temporary visit, he must be dreaming. He rolled back over when he realized he wasn’t dreaming. He groaned again, louder this time. Finally, he opened his eyes to see Elway sitting up on the bottom of the bed, staring at him. He supposed he was seeing some kind of miracle. Unless . . . Mitzi Granger was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. At four thirty in the morning! Mitzi Granger, coupon clipper extraordinaire, square dance queen of the South, fourth-richest woman in the cou
ntry, thanks to her prescient investing during and after the dot-com boom and bust, matchmaker to the geriatric population of Crestwood, and the world’s worst cook. That Mitzi Granger. Feisty, opinionated, tell-it-like-it-is Mitzi, lover of all four-legged creatures, and his beloved aunt.

  “Mitzi!” he roared.

  “Yes, darlin’.” The ninety-pound, skinny stick of a woman wearing bib overalls and a flowered shirt, holding a spatula, appeared in the doorway.

  “It’s four thirty in the morning, Mitzi!”

  “I’ve been here since three. Your cat kept me company. I didn’t know you had a cat, Jacob. You should have told me you had a cat. I would have brought some catnip and a scratching post. By the time you brush your teeth, your breakfast will be ready.”

  “Is the bacon burned, and will the eggs be rubbery? Is the coffee weak?”

  “Yes to all of your questions. You know I can’t cook. Your mama was the cook in the family. Since I was the baby in the family, your grandmother understood my lust for life and let me do what I wanted. Cooking was not one of those things. Food is sustenance. That’s how you have to look at it. Someone has to look out for you, darlin’. I do wish you’d get married. Your cat likes me.” It was all said in one long swoosh of breath while the spatula waved back and forth.

  “All right! All right! It’s four thirty! Why couldn’t you wait till six o’clock, when decent people get up to make breakfast?” Jake muttered on his way to the bathroom.

  “Because I never sleep. I consider sleeping a waste of time. I have worlds to conquer, and as you can see, I’m not getting any younger. I like to get an early start on the day, unlike some people I know,” she said, jabbing the spatula in Jake’s direction. “For your information, I have an aerobics class at six thirty. Then I have my martial arts class at eight, and I do my yoga for an hour. No decent person eats breakfast at ten thirty. Ten thirty is time to start thinking about lunch,” Mitzi insisted as she made her way back to the kitchen, Elway hot on her trail.

  “How stupid of me,” Jake continued to mutter as he stepped under the spray. Maybe if he stayed there long enough, Elway would eat the shitty breakfast his aunt was making. Had made. It sounded like it was just waiting for him to choke it down.

  When Jake trundled into the kitchen ten minutes later, he promised himself he would make a valiant effort to eat everything Mitzi made him, even if it killed him, because he adored his aunt and didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

  Jake settled himself at the table but not before he looked around. Newspapers were everywhere. He raised a questioning eyebrow even though he already knew the answer.

  “I was cutting out coupons to make the time go faster until it was time to wake you. I have eighteen dollars’ worth. You don’t mind, do you, darlin’?”

  “Hell no! Just don’t buy me any more bargains. I have two hundred rolls of toilet paper jammed in my linen closet, sixty-four rolls of paper towels under the bed, forty-four cans of string beans sitting on top of my dishes, and sixteen tubes of Colgate toothpaste in my medicine cabinet. There’s no room for my aspirin bottle, and I don’t even like Colgate, I like Crest.”

  “Get over it, darlin’. A bargain is a bargain. A penny saved is a penny earned.”

  Why did he think he could win with Mitzi? “What’s on sale?”

  “All kinds of good stuff. I heard about your dinner, or lack of it, with your father.”

  Jake slapped at his forehead. “How do you do that, Mitzi? It was last night. Do you have some kind of pipeline that automatically feeds you information?” Jake asked as he picked up a piece of dry, burned toast.

  Mitzi ignored the question. “He had a bad time on the golf course. That means something’s brewing with that . . . that woman. Tell me I’m wrong, darlin’.”

  Jake jabbed his fork into the mound of rubbery eggs. There had to be at least six scrambled eggs on his plate. He shrugged. “I didn’t give him a chance to tell me whatever it was he wanted to talk about. I left and went to Burger King. He did say Sarabess Windsor wanted me to do some traveling for her. Yesterday was the anniversary of her daughter’s death. Miss Clara came in to change her will again and told me she saw Sarabess at the cemetery. Maybe there’s some kind of significance to the two things. That’s all I know, Mitzi. Do I really have to eat these eggs?”

  “Of course not, just dump them in the disposal. I heard she was at the cemetery. I guess we can assume your father’s golf game had something to do with that visit.”

  Jake dumped his breakfast into the sink before he slid his plate into the dishwasher. “Mitzi, do you remember Trinity Henderson?”

  Mitzi’s cheeks puffed out. Jake thought she looked like a squirrel with flaming red hair. “Of course I remember her. I loved that girl as if she were my own. Time or her absence will never change my feelings for that young woman even though we don’t talk about her these days. You should know that. Why are we talking about Trinny? She ran away when she was fifteen. I remember it clear as if it was yesterday. I was the only one alarmed, but no one cared if I was concerned or not. They just let her go. I could never understand that. The Hendersons work for that woman, so what do you expect? As far as I know, the police weren’t even called in. I had the feeling back then that it was something like good riddance. The child never came back here as far as I know. I even hired private detectives to try to find her, but they didn’t. Why do you ask, darlin’?”

  “Her name came up yesterday during my conversation with Miss Clara. Clara went on to say Sarabess was doing the weeping-and-wailing thing. Then I got to thinking about Trinity last night when I got home. She was a tough little cookie. I was wondering what happened to her, that’s all.”

  “Your mama thought Trinity had a crush on you. I thought so, too. I know you had a crush on her. Oh, well, that was then, this is now. She’s probably married with little babies. I have to go now, darlin’. You don’t mind cleaning up this mess, do you?” Mitzi asked, waving her arm about to indicate the mutilated newspapers and the countertops.

  Jake shook his head, dismayed at her words. “Thanks for the breakfast. How come you didn’t eat any?”

  “Are you crazy? I only eat legumes, Jell-O, and greens. Your cat really likes me.”

  Elway hissed as the door opened, then closed.

  Jake sat down, exhausted. He looked at the clock. It read 5:15. He waited until he heard the roar of the racy Jaguar his aunt drove before he opened the door for Elway. The cat looked at him, then trotted off toward the living room. Jake didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. Actually, at that precise moment he felt meaner than a snake for some reason.

  With nothing else to do until it was time to dress and head into the office, Jake made fresh coffee and toast. While he waited for the coffee to drip, he cleaned up his aunt’s mess. A wry smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He loved Mitzi, and he knew she loved him.

  He wasn’t sure if the term misfit applied to Mitzi or not. She was certainly her own person and marched to a different drummer. Everyone in town loved Mitzi except his father and Sarabess Windsor. Mitzi could always be counted on to lend her name to any worthy endeavor, give generously to causes, and work tirelessly for children’s and animals’ rights. It was true, she never slept; well, hardly ever. He’d seen her take what she called power naps. She had more stamina and energy than he had on his best day, even though she puffed on cigarettes all day long, to everyone’s disgust. The truth was, he couldn’t keep up with her.

  Once he’d asked his mother why Mitzi wasn’t married and her response was that Mitzi had had her heart broken and didn’t trust another man to mend it. His mother seemed to approve of her sister’s wild and wicked lifestyle. In later years, he thought his mother would have liked to cut loose, but her upbringing wouldn’t allow it. His father made no pretense of liking Mitzi. He called her a disgrace to the family, a rebel who chased rainbows. Mitzi retaliated by saying he was a shitty lawyer with his brains in his ass. After she thumbed her nose at him, she attacked
Sarabess Windsor and hinted at secrets she would divulge when she wrote her memoirs. Jake was a kid at the time, and it was the first time he saw fear on anyone’s face. It wasn’t until years later that he wondered why his aunt’s words would make his father so fearful.

  From that day forward, Mitzi had taunted his father with her dark secrets. His father had made it his business not to respond to her taunts, Southern gentleman that he was, and never to be in Mitzi’s company if he could help it.

  One of these days I’ll have to ferret out those secrets. One of these days . . .

  Jake was tying the knot in his tie when his doorbell rang. He looked at his watch. He was almost certain it wasn’t Mitzi, who at the moment was probably exercising, turning herself into a pretzel. Amanda Pettijohn? He laughed at that ridiculous thought. Then, who?

  Jake didn’t bother to look through the little peephole. He yanked open the door and found his father. “I know it’s early, Jake, but I thought I would stop by before you left for the office. I have court all morning, so I won’t be in the office till after lunch.”

  What happened to, “Hello, Son”? Jake wondered as he motioned for his father to enter the apartment. Elway skirted his father’s ankles, his back arched and the fur standing on end. What does that mean? Jake wondered. Mitzi would probably say it meant the cat didn’t like Rifkin Forrest.

  “What’s up, Pop?” Jake asked coolly. If his father came for an apology, he was going to grow a beard before that happened. “Coffee?”

  “No thanks. I had some earlier. Look, I’m sorry about last night. I’m here to ask you if you’ll go up to Windsor Hill to talk to Mrs. Windsor. She wants to hire you. You, Jake, not me.”

  “I’m not taking on any new clients. What part of ‘I don’t want anything to do with Miz Sarabess Windsor’ didn’t you understand? There are two other lawyers in this town, let her hire them. I’m not interested, and you know what else? I resent you trying to coerce me into it. Maybe you make house calls, but I don’t.”