She went to her mother’s desk where she thought she’d find the will and, in the process of looking for it, found a savings account book. She opened the faded front cover and saw the account was in her mother’s name and had a balance of slightly over $20,000, the only deposit of $50,000 dating back to before Paige was born. A dozen or so withdrawals ranging from one to five thousand dollars had been made during the last fifteen years.
After a short hunt, Paige located the will in another drawer. Her mother hadn’t told her not to look at it, so she did. A quick glance proved nothing out of the ordinary. She put it in her purse and took one last look around the front room before watering the last plant, locking up the house, and proceeding to the hospital.
When Paige entered the ICU, she was happy to see her mother wearing a less cumbersome breathing apparatus—one that covered her nose but not her mouth.
“Feeling better?” she asked.
“Have my plants been watered?”
“Yes.”
“Did you bring my will?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m feeling better.”
Paige handed her the will.
“No, you keep it. Keep it until I’m in a regular room. I can’t do anything with it while I’m in here.”
She wants to alter it?
“Okay,” Paige responded. Had her mother finally come to her senses about Natalie’s addictions, enough to place conditions on her share of the inheritance?
They chatted a while until a nurse came in and told Paige that they were going to take her mother down to the lab for more tests.
“I’m going to go now,” she told her mother. “Do you need anything? Anything else from home?”
“The cleaning lady comes on Tuesdays, nine o’clock or so. Can you let her in?”
“Sure, Mom,” Paige said, despite knowing of an important meeting with her accountant that had been scheduled for that time. She leaned over her mother and kissed her forehead. “Love you.” That was something they didn’t normally say to each other. Not because they didn’t love each other. Because they just never said it. Her mother didn’t offer a reciprocal response, which was neither surprising nor upsetting. Still, Paige was glad she had said it.
On her way home, Paige wracked her brain trying to figure out how her mother might change her will. The current wording indicated that she and Natalie were the sole heirs. She considered the other components covered in her will. She had no debt, so that wouldn’t be an issue. It stated that her assets would be evenly distributed between her and Natalie. Her mom wanted a simple funeral. And Paige had been named the executor. She couldn’t imagine any of this changing. She figured it must have something to do with Natalie.
Paige spotted the blinking light on her answering machine as soon as she walked in the door. Only two people other than annoying marketers ever called her on her landline—her mom and Natalie.
“You won’t let my plants die after I’m gone, will you, dear?”
Chapter 20
Jessivel called her mother for the third time in as many days, this time insisting on seeing her.
“Meet me on the patio in the back,” her mother told her. “Mrs. Perlman doesn’t like outsiders in the house.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Just do it, Jess.”
She found her mother on the patio when she arrived.
“Maybe we should meet behind the pool house where no one can see us,” Jessivel quipped. “Behind that clump of trees over there.”
“Don’t be smart.”
The one-story contemporary house wrapped itself around a large kidney-shaped pool—complete with a waterfall—the water a tranquil shade of aqua that shimmered under the strong sun. The pool house on the far side of it was larger than their old house.
Jessivel joined her mother at the table adjacent to an expansive outdoor kitchen. The cushioned swivel lounge chair she plopped herself into was more comfortable and likely more expensive than any piece of furniture her family had ever owned. She placed her knock-off Coach purse on the glass tabletop next to a shallow porcelain bowl of colorful succulents.
“If you want to talk about what I think you want to talk about, save your breath,” her mother said in a hushed tone. “He’s dead. Let’s move on.”
“Why won’t you talk about him? What are you afraid of? What are you hiding?”
“I’m not hiding anything. You seem to want to dig up dirt about— And let me remind you that he took care of us ever since you were born. Good care of us. Let it be.”
“Do you know Dad had another family, a rich one?”
Jessivel’s mother rose from her chair. “I’ve heard enough.”
Jessivel stood up, walked to her mother, and put her hands on her shoulders. “No. You’re going to listen to me,” she said as she gently pushed her mother back into her seat. “Not only did he have another family, but it looks like I have a half-sister. Did you know that?”
Her mother stared at Jessivel without so much as a blink for a long, uncomfortable moment, biting her bottom lip, her distorted face almost unrecognizable.
“Yes, I knew that.” She shook her head. “Maybe not for sure, but I had reason to suspect it. I would’ve had to have been deaf, dumb, and blind not to. Is her name Paige?”
“Yes. How did you know that?”
“I’ve seen the name in a few places.”
“So you’ve known about her all this time?”
“For a while, yes.”
“And you were okay with it?”
She shrugged. “I had no choice.”
Jessivel thought about her mother’s response. She obviously had choices. She stayed with him for a reason—financial support, companionship, or perhaps fear of raising a child alone. Looked like she and her mom had more in common than she’d previously thought.
“So how did all this happen? You met him, got pregnant with me. Not planned I assume.”
“Mm-hm.”
“He was married at the time?”
“I didn’t know it at first, but yes.”
“How did it happen?”
The dazed expression on her mother’s face didn’t require an accompanying response for Jessivel to realize how stupid the question sounded.
“Okay. Where did it happen? How did you even know him?”
“Do we really have to talk about this, Jess? It’s all past history.”
“Not for me, it isn’t. Where did you two meet? I know you didn’t hang with the same crowd.” She paused a moment. “Or did you?”
“No, we didn’t.”
“How then?”
“I cleaned his office.”
“What?”
“I was working for KMB, and his company was one of their clients. His office was assigned to me.”
“You cleaned his office. While he was in it?”
“He often worked late.”
“So one day you were emptying his waste basket and you ended up sleeping with him?”
Her mother’s body froze in place, her look unforgiving.
“So you must have known his real name. It’s not Wayne Salter. You know that, right?”
“I do know, but I didn’t for a long time.”
“But you cleaned his office…when he was in it. What did you call him?”
“I called him Wayne. He told me that was his name.”
“So how did it happen? I don’t get it.”
“You know, I don’t owe you any explanation.”
“Well, I think you do!”
“Lower your voice, will you? I don’t want Mrs. Perlman to hear us.”
“I don’t give a—”
“Who do you think you’re talking to?”
“A big frickin’ liar, that’s who!”
A petite older woman with bleached-blond hair, dressed from head to toe in white, emerged from around the corner. “Is everything alright out here?”
“Yes, ma’am. We’ll be done soon.”
“Well, you need to keep
it down.” She flicked a strand of hair off her forehead. “And another five minutes should do it, Crystal. Don’t you think?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Are you kidding me?” Jessivel whispered when Mrs. Perlman had disappeared.
“Keep it down. Do you want to get me fired?”
“Well, you wouldn’t catch me working here.”
“Apparently, I wouldn’t catch you working anywhere.”
“Good one, Mom.”
“How’s Kayla? Does she like your new apartment?”
“She’s fine, and don’t change the subject. I’m here to talk about Dad.”
“But I miss her.”
“And she misses you too. If you had a day off once in a while, we could see each other more. So what about Dad?”
“I told you everything.”
“No, you haven’t.” Jessivel threw her hands in the air, ready to give it to her mother with both barrels when a new tactic came to mind. She breathed in deeply before continuing. “Look, I’m sorry. I just want to know more about the man I called Dad my whole life. Is that asking too much?” she asked.
Her mother stared at her through what appeared to be weary eyes.
“Could you get away for a half-day?” Jessivel asked. “I want you to see my apartment and spend some time with Kayla.”
“I have Tuesdays off.”
“You could have told me that before.”
“You’re right, I could have.”
“But?”
“But I was afraid you were going to ask me the very questions you just asked me, so I didn’t want you to know that.”
“Really, Mom?”
“You have no idea how upset this discussion is making me.”
“Can I pick you up next Tuesday then? Ten o’clock?”
“Fine.”
“Crystal? Are you just about finished with your little visit?” Mrs. Perlman asked from the open French door.
“I’d slap her,” Jessivel mouthed to her mother.
“Ten o’clock Tuesday. Don’t be late.”
Chapter 21
“You’re not dying, Mother.” Paige had arrived at the hospital to find her mother in a fatalistic mood. “The doctors say you’ll be fine.”
“Well, it feels like I’m dying. And what do they know about how I’m feeling? They whisk themselves in here when they have a minute, half of them I don’t even know, probably charging a few hundred dollars for the pleasure of their brief company, and before I’ve had enough time to formulate a question, they’re gone. Damn hospital. I hate it here.”
“From what I understand, you’re going to be here for a little while, so you need to get used to it.”
“How are my plants doing?”
“They’re doing fine.” One of them had a few fuzzy spots of something grey on its leaves, and another one looked to be in premortem condition, but Paige wasn’t about to tell her that.
“Even the Staghorn fern?"
“Which one is that?”
“The one hanging on the wall in the family room.”
“That’s a real plant?” Paige asked.
“So you haven’t watered it?”
“Sorry. I thought it was artificial.”
“It started to decline when your father died, and it’s taken me this long to get it back to—”
“I’ll water it today, after I leave here.”
“It’ll be dead by the time I get home. Another one dead.”
“I’ll buy you a new one.”
“I’ve become rather attached to that one. Like your father.”
Give me a break.
“I want to talk to you about him when you’re home and feeling better.”
Her mother closed her eyes and shook her head.
“All I want to talk about is—”
“No.”
“I don’t see why—”
“Can I have my will dear?” she asked, eyes still closed.
Here we go.
“I didn’t bring it with me. Do you want to wait until you get home?”
“If I ever come home.”
“You’re coming home, Mom. The doctors say you’ll be released within the week if everything goes well.” She hadn’t planned on telling her mother this, in case it didn’t happen that soon.
“I doubt it. I’ll probably die in this godforsaken room.” She glanced around. “Some flowers would be nice. Nothing extravagant.”
Paige patted her hand. “You’re going to be fine. Trust me. And if you need help with anything when you get home, we’ll hire someone.”
Her mother’s face perked up. “What? A caregiver? Not on your life!”
“Why not? At some point, we all need—”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Me? Well, of course I can do some things for you, but—” A blurred vision of her business sliding out from under her swept through her mind.
“But what?”
“But nothing. I’ll do whatever I can. I was just saying—”
“No outside caregivers.”
“Okay. No caregivers.”
“And no more talk about your father. I need closure.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Her mother gave her a look that caused Paige to snicker.
“And stop smiling.”
“Yeesh. I can’t even smile.”
“You know what I mean.”
Paige stopped by the hospital florist before leaving and ordered a spring bouquet for her mother’s room.
Mothers could be so trying.
Paige’s thoughts were on Jessivel and her father’s disease that ultimately would have killed him. The child of someone with Huntington’s had a 50-50 chance of being similarly afflicted. Early detection could provide a means of treatment that would slow down the progression of the disease. If Paige were Jessivel, she’d want to know. Even if Paige failed at any other communication, she wanted to have this discussion with her. Jessivel deserved this.
But getting Jessivel to listen would be a problem, and Paige knew that it would take some doing—some creative doing—to get and then keep her attention long enough to talk to her about it.
The next day, Paige called Gary, who now had a new address for Jessivel.
“Tell me you’re not going to do anything foolish…or unlawful,” he said.
“Of course not. It’s not illegal to park on her street and observe her comings and goings, is it?” she asked, thinking a little judicious snooping might be beneficial.
“Would you like me to read you the official definition of stalking?”
“Please.”
Gary read her the definition and relative punishment.
“I think I’ll be okay,” she told him.
“Do you want to tell me what you intend to do?”
“No. I wouldn’t want to implicate you.”
“That you used the word ‘implicate’ scares me.”
“I’ll be good.”
She hung up, got in her car, and went to Jessivel’s new residence, which she knew by the address to be government housing. After observing Jessivel’s car in a numbered parking space, she found an unobtrusive place to sit in her car and watch the doorway.
She sat for a few minutes until she had to admit to herself how ridiculous it was to sit there wasting valuable time when she should have been analyzing the latest real estate market reports in her office. Waiting for Jessivel to emerge—especially when she didn’t have a sensible plan on what she would do if she did appear—made no sense. There had to be a better way. If only she had something Jessivel wanted, or a peace offering of sorts. She searched her mind for a plausible scheme.
An idea came to her. The market reports would have to wait.
Paige knew someone at CDFSS she had helped a couple of times when subsidized housing had been at maximum capacity. Time to call in a favor.
“Hi, Cassandra. Paige West here.”
“Hi, Paige. What can I do for you?”
“I�
��m not sure if you can do anything, actually, but I’m going to ask anyway. There is someone I know who recently went into government housing. Her name is Jessivel Salter. I got to know her when she came into the soup kitchen where I volunteer. I would like to help her in some way. I’m not sure how exactly—she’s not one who is very receptive to help. Scared, maybe. I know where she lives, but I don’t want to just knock on her door out of the blue. Do you know her by any chance?”
“You know I can’t talk about my clients, Paige.”
“I know, but—”
“You could try contacting people in the area who have entry-level job openings.”
“Okay,” Paige said, thinking she knew where Cassandra might be going with this. “Can you recommend anyone in particular?”
“Do you know Audrey Russo?”
“Owner of The Busy Bean?” Paige and Audrey had met at various Chamber of Commerce meetings. Nice lady.
“That’s the one. She often has openings.”
“Are you saying—”
“I can’t say any more, Paige. Good luck.”
Cassandra had come through.
Chapter 22
Jessivel arrived at Mrs. Perlman’s home promptly at ten o’clock the following Tuesday, expecting her mother to be waiting outside. When she drove into the circular driveway past the massive front door and didn’t see her, a heaviness swept through her. Her biggest fear was that she’d been too aggressive with her mother the last time she had seen her when trying to glean information about her father, and now she’d lost her. She half-expected to see Mrs. Pearlman come out the door and shoo her away.
“Where is she?” asked Kayla from the back seat.
“She’ll be here,” Jessivel said with hope in her heart.
A long couple of minutes passed before her mother appeared from around the side of the house.
“Are you kidding me?” Jessivel asked her mother when she got into the car. “You couldn’t have come through the front door?”
“Just leave, Jess. Mrs. Perlman doesn’t like cars parked out front.”
“You know what I would do if—”
“Yes, I do. Now drive.”
“Hi, Nana,” Kayla said.
“Oh, dear Kayla. How I’ve missed you.”
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