“He seemed really genuine. And it’s so cold out here. We have jackets and gloves, he didn’t have anything.”
“I know, and maybe he was a nice guy, but you can’t take that risk. There are shelters here to help people like him. If you want to give someone a little change, then keep some in your pocket. Don’t pull out your wallet. It’s better to give a little and just keep walking. You can’t go engaging every homeless person and hearing his life story. It makes you too vulnerable.”
“That is the coldest thing I think I’ve ever heard. That isn’t what Jesus would do, that’s for sure.”
“No one had guns in biblical times. If you really want to help, then find a way to support a shelter or a coat drive or something. But handing out cash to anyone who asks is not safe, okay?”
“I’m not an idiot, I know this place has a lot of crime. I watch the news. I just figured it couldn’t hurt to pay it forward a little bit,” Jules drawled, sounding defeated.
“I know. I’m sorry it’s not how you imagined. I promise I’m just looking out for you.”
Chapter Three
Stoneybrook Houses were exactly how Father Corbin had described them. They were a cluster of buildings on a large estate. The gardens and walking paths created a sense of serenity. The estate didn’t fit with the bustling city that was just twenty minutes away, and Piper welcomed the distance.
Piper and Jules had been given a joint apartment, which was small but efficient. It was furnished with a tiny kitchen. The girls in the lobby and on the grounds were all at different stages of pregnancy. Some had large, round bellies that seemed to defy the laws of physics. Other girls had such small bumps they didn’t appear pregnant at all until they turned and showed their profile. Piper kept watching as Jules examined each of them, wondering what she would have to face in her own pregnancy. The facility was staffed solely by nuns, and although Father Corbin had assured them otherwise, the stern looks from the older nuns made it reminiscent of a home for wayward girls from years ago.
Exhausted from their long drive and walk through the park, Piper felt as if she hadn’t slept for a week. As she crawled into the small twin bed, she felt weariness overtake her. The good news was her nightmares had stopped after the death of the man she’d always believed to be her father. She didn’t fear sleep anymore. Now her dreams were different. They weren’t moments of her past brought back in staggeringly crisp pictures; instead they were full of hope.
Tonight as she slept, she stood before a tall man. He looked like the culmination of three or four different television-sitcom dads: dark hair, kind eyes, and open arms. She saw herself, not as she was now in her twenties, but her younger self, running toward this man, a gangly pre-teen who just wanted to know the warmth of a hug.
After a restful night’s sleep, Piper realized her subconscious had painted a rosy picture—a welcoming, loving man who would instantly take her into his heart. She couldn’t calculate the mathematical probability of that happening, but if she factored in her bad luck in the family department, the odds were not great.
Piper took a long hot shower and counted her blessings for having this place to stay. She made her way to the kitchen and poured two bowls of cereal and two glasses of orange juice. Every time she pulled something from the stocked fridge, her gratitude for Father Corbin grew.
Jules stumbled out of her bedroom and, with slumped shoulders, made her way to the small table. Piper realized that even just waking up, Jules looked beautiful. Her red hair was shining and, even in yoga pants and a workout top, she looked runway ready. Her voice was barely over a mumble as she wiped the sleep from her eyes.
Jules spoke through a yawn. “We need to go to the drug facility your mom was in. I think if we explain the situation, anyone with a heart would be willing to help us out.”
“Please don’t get your hopes up.” Piper pushed her cereal around in her bowl and reminded herself the same thing. There was a very good chance she would never find out who her father was. It was better if she kept that in perspective.
“Okay, Sally Sad Pants, I’ll make sure I go in there assuming we’ll be thrown out on our asses, will that make you feel better?”
“Yes.”
They finished their breakfast in near silence, neither having the energy to convince the other that the glass was either half full or half empty. It wasn’t until they were settled in the car that Jules spoke up again.
“I only ask that you let me do the talking. You can discount my eloquence and persuasiveness all you’d like, but you’ve hardly seen it in action.”
Piper had no actual plan, so if Jules was going to try to get information about her mother and who her father might be, she was fine with that. “I hope you prove me wrong.”
As they pulled up to the Brooklyn facility, Piper scanned the area before unlocking the doors. “This is not a good area, Jules. Just head right for the door.”
Jules flipped down the mirror in her sun visor and applied her lip gloss, smacking her shiny lips together. “Aye, aye, Captain.”
They quickly hustled to the door and Jules yanked on the metal handle only to find it firmly locked. She took two steps back and searched the entryway for more information.
“You have to get buzzed in,” Piper said as she pressed the button on the outdated speaker box.
“State your name and what you want,” a monotone voice replied through the speaker.
“My name is Julie Grafton. I’m here inquiring about a former patient.” Jules practically curtsied in front of the speaker, as if basic civility might unlock the door.
“Do you have a court order?” the flat voice asked back.
“Is that the only way to get any information?” Jules probed with a smile.
“Yes,” the voice answered, clearly growing tired of the conversation.
“Then yes, I do have a court order. I’d be mighty grateful if you open the door.” A loud buzz rang out, followed by the click of the door unlocking.
“A court order?” Piper asked, giving a sideways look at her friend.
They stepped through three more sets of doors that all buzzed and unlocked in front of them until they stood in front of an exhausted looking young woman at a dilapidated desk.
“Court order,” she groaned, laying her hand flat to receive the document.
“I know this is going to sound crazy, but I’m hoping to appeal to your humanity here,” Jules sang, tilting her head and batting her lashes over her smiling eyes.
“Court order,” the woman repeated. Her hair was pulled back in a bun so tight, it looked painful.
“I don’t exactly have a court order. You see, this young woman here was conceived in this very facility twenty-five years ago when her mother was a patient. We’re searching for her father. He would have been either a patient or staff member back then. I’m wondering if you could provide us with a list.”
The woman had returned to whatever paperwork she was filling out before Jules and Piper had entered. “No,” she replied emphatically.
“I understand this is highly unorthodox.” Jules reached her hand across the desk and touched the woman’s hand gently, attempting to regain her attention. At that the woman rolled her chair backward and pushed a green button on the wall. She folded her arms across her chest and grinned for the first time since they had walked in, but somewhat maniacally.
Two large men in white scrubs appeared from behind her and walked around the desk toward Piper and Jules. “What’s the problem here, Maggs?” the larger of the two men inquired in a voice so deep, it bordered on funny.
“These two chicks are causing trouble. They won’t take no for an answer and need to be escorted out. If they put up a fight, toss ’em on their asses.”
Piper scanned the entryway again, hooked arms with Jules, and headed for the first of the three sets of doors. “No escort necessary, we’re leaving,” she called over her shoulder, as she pulled down a flyer that was taped to the door. She shuffled Jules out and into
the car as quickly as she could.
“You shouldn’t be happy that you were right. All it means is we have no leads. Don’t rub it in. I don’t want to hear your mockingbird mouth overload your jaybird ass.”
Piper put the car in reverse and had to hit the brake quickly, as she laughed. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means don’t go shooting off your big mouth if your skinny butt can’t back it up.” Her arms were crossed and her lips pursed.
“I have no intention of rubbing in the fact that I was right. I’m going to be too busy following up on this.” She handed the pilfered flyer over to Jules and grinned triumphantly.
Jules read it over and shook her head. “You sly dog.” She slapped the paper down on her lap. “A retirement party for a Mrs. Gertrude Meriwether. Celebrating thirty years of employment. She would have been there when your mom was.”
“Yep,” Piper pulled back onto the main road. “Now we just need to find her.”
Chapter Four
The next day began with another meeting over cereal as they grumpily discussed their plan, or lack there of. They were certainly not morning people.
“So we need an address for the woman who just retired,” Jules grumbled.
“I know. I’ve been thinking about that this morning
“Once we have it, we can go see her and find out if she remembers anything about your mom as a patient.” Jules became more alert as Piper handed her a spoon. She practically inhaled her cereal in between each word, and Piper felt the urge to tease her but fought it off.
“Any ideas how we can get that?”
“I called Michael last night to see if he could get a buddy of his at the police department to check DMV records for us.” Jules reached for the box of cereal and refilled her bowl.
“Why not call Bobby?”
“I guess he’s gone totally radio silent right now. He took off, and, well, I’m not even sure how to tell you this . . .” Jules broke off.
“What?” Piper asked, fear spreading across her face.
“That cop Michael called the favor in to, he said Bobby resigned. He quit.”
“Oh my God, I wrecked him, too?” She paused, but before Jules could comment further, she added quietly, “First Bruno, now Bobby. Everyone I meet, I just wreck them all.” She looked pleadingly at Jules. “All he ever wanted to do was be a cop, and after just a few months with me, and my crazy life, I destroyed that. Oh, Jules, how could I have ruined that for him, too? You should go back to Edenville before I do the same thing to you.”
“Piper, you said yourself, he has his own history he’s wrestling with. These are his choices. And there isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell I’m going back to Edenville yet. We’re going to find your father.”
Piper wanted to agree and take in the pep talk Jules was dishing out, but she couldn’t.
Jules jumped slightly as her phone rang. She juggled it for a minute as she grabbed it off the table, and then put it to her ear. “Hey Michael, did you get that address?” she asked pointblank, and Piper realized how awkward things were getting between the two of them. She watched as Jules scratched down some notes and then threw down the pen and rolled her eyes. “Nothing is up with me. I’m fine. We’re just really busy. I’ll call you,” she paused and huffed loudly, “some other time.” She hung up the phone and tossed it across the room onto the couch. “Seriously, Jules, you can’t shut him out like that. He needs to know you’re pregnant.”
“Leave me alone, I’m too tired for a lecture. We’re going to go find Mrs. Meriwether and see what she can tell us.”
“You’re playing with fire, Jules. I’m not going to harp on this, but I think you should tell him sooner rather than later.”
“It’s working out wonderfully for you and Bobby,” Jules snipped, and then instantly tried to take it back. “What is wrong with me? I’m sorry. I swear if I was impulsive and dramatic before, these hormones are going to make me completely insufferable.”
“That’s okay, I’m butting out for now. Did you get an address?”
Jules looked down at the paper. “She lives in DeArmon Heights. Do you know where that is?”
Piper shook her head at the irony. “Yes, I know where that is. I grew up there.”
“Like, in that neighborhood?”
“It’s not a cul-de-sac, Jules, it’s the projects. No one calls it DeArmon Heights. If you live there it’s Desperate Heights, if you don’t it’s Demon Heights. The nurse must live on the west side because I don’t remember the name. There was a divide between the junkies and the normal people who were just poor. We lived on the junkie side, the east side.”
“Well at least we know where we’re heading,” Jules said in a bubbly tone.
“We’re not heading anywhere. That is a dangerous place. I’ll go by myself.”
“There’s no way you’re going alone. I promise I’ll just shut up and follow you.”
Piper looked Jules over, weighing the idea. “Fine,” she said hesitantly. “But no makeup, no jewelry, pull your hair into a ponytail and put on some baggy clothes. Right now you look like a five-course meal, and we’re about to walk past a bunch of starving people.”
“Oh,” Jules said, tilting her head and covering her heart with her hands. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a while.”
Piper narrowed her eyes. These were the jokes that wouldn’t work where they were going. That sassy southern drawl wouldn’t be accepted.
“I’m kidding. Okay, okay, I’m going to get ugly, but you should know that’s not an easy task for a girl like me.”
Apparently Jules was not exaggerating. It took forty-five minutes to complete the makeunder. Even with the lack of makeup, hair pulled back, and loose sweatshirt, she still looked beautiful. They loaded Bruno into the back of the car for an extra form of security, that is, if he could still manage to look scary. On the ride over, Piper continued to lay out the rules.
“We’re bringing Bruno with us, but that still doesn’t mean we’re completely protected. When we walk through the big courtyard there will be lots of people just kind of hanging around. They’ll call out to you. You’re a stranger, so you’re entertainment. Ignore them. If they get in our face don’t say anything. I’ll do the talking. Just bring a little cash and your license, and keep it in your pocket. Don’t walk the way you usually do.”
“How do I usually walk?” Jules asked in a defensive tone.
“Like you have fairy wings strapped to your back. You flutter.”
“I swear, Piper, if you don’t cut out these compliments, I’m gonna blush.”
“You’re exhausting sometimes, you know that? Just try to walk like a normal person, and don’t talk. I swear if you say fixin’ to you might as well just hand over our car keys and money.”
The conversation slowed as the streets seemed to close in, around them. The wide multi-lane avenues lined with city skyscrapers were replaced by dilapidated brick and metal structures. Piles of pallets and overturned barrels littered the sides of the streets and the abandoned lots. The people of the street had transformed from doe-eyed tourists and determined business suits to baggy-clothed residents with purposeless vacant stares. The already cold temperatures seemed even colder on these streets, the wind harder for these people to fight.
Jules was uncharacteristically silent as her face changed from bewildered to sad. “Why is it like this here? Why doesn’t anyone help these people?”
“There isn’t a simple answer.”
“But Piper, how can you drive for ten minutes and go from a bustling metropolis full of successful people to this godforsaken mess with ghosts of people who can’t seem to escape?”
“Don’t feel too bad,” Piper tried to comfort her. “For most people here, it’s all they’ve ever known. They don’t sit and think about what they’re missing.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better at all,” Jules thought out loud, biting nervously at her nails. The number of homeless peopl
e pushing carts and fishing things from trashcans was staggering. As they sped by in Piper’s car, there were moments when they all seemed to bleed together, one dirty arm twisted into another. “If I could, I would just spread the happiness and wealth like paint. I’d drag my brush across the canvas of the city, pulling it from a heavy splash to a thin covering for everyone. I’d paint until everything was one color. Then no one would have more than anyone else.” Jules wiped a tear off her cheek and said with resolve, “That’s what I’d do.”
Piper slowed the car as she pulled through the metal gates of the projects.
“Just please remember what I said,” Piper reminded Jules. “Walk quickly and don’t talk to anyone.”
“Okay,” Jules promised, every joke evaporating, the seriousness of all this settling in.
They got out of the car with Bruno in tow, and Piper clicked the lock button, even though she knew if someone wanted the car, the fact that it was locked wouldn’t be much of a deterrent. It was all about timing, luck of the draw. If the car was there when they got back, it was just because no one had seen it in time to do anything to it. She clipped Bruno’s leash to his collar and he trotted along next to them.
Just as Piper had described in her attempt to prepare Jules, they crossed a large cement courtyard, boxed on all sides with prison-like brick buildings. Glass was missing from windows and stairwells were dirty, precarious without railings. Jules leaned close to Piper and whispered, “This looks like a place the world has forgotten, like something out of a zombie apocalypse movie.” Suddenly the shouting began.
A teenager caught sight of them. Jules tried not to make eye contact, but it was impossible not to stare at the tattoo on his face. “Hey sweet-ass, you wanna make some money?” he called, cutting the distance between them quickly. Beneath an unzipped winter coat he wore a tight white tank top, often referred to as a wife-beater, and this teen, a boy really, was the reason why. He would probably not hesitate to beat a woman, and this was his uniform of choice.
Changing Fate (Book 3) (Piper Anderson Series) Page 3
