The Ring

by Florence Osmund

  “We were wondering when she could come off the ventilator,” Paige told her.

  “We were thinking the same thing, so what we’re going to do is remove it and see how her breathing is on her own. Would you mind giving us some privacy while we do this? We’ll come get you when we’re done.”

  When Paige reentered the room several minutes later, she was relieved to see the tube gone from her mother’s mouth. “You look good, Mom. Feel better now?”

  “Where’s my will?”

  “I have it at home.”

  “Where are my other things?”

  “I have them in my car. They gave me everything.”

  “See, they didn’t think I’d make it either.”

  “That’s not why—”

  “Bring it to me.”

  “What?”

  “The will.”

  “Okay. I’ll bring it tomorrow.”

  After battling with the sheets and blankets all night, Paige got up the next morning thoroughly exhausted from lack of sleep. When she checked in with her office before setting out for the hospital, Olivia said someone called her earlier who left only the name Jessivel and a phone number.

  “No message, just the number?”

  “I didn’t take the call, and that’s all that’s written on the message pad. Do you want me to look into it further?”

  “No. Just give me the number.”

  Paige entered the number into her phone’s contact list. She popped a couple of antacids, grabbed her mother’s will, and drove to the hospital.

  “Did you bring it?” her mother asked as soon as she walked into the room.

  She didn’t recognize her at first, thought she may have entered the wrong room. She walked toward her for a closer look. A vacant aura appeared to drape itself across her mother’s face, something Paige had never witnessed before. Maybe she was dying.

  “Hi, Mom. How are you feeling?”

  “Did you bring my will?”

  “Yes, I brought it.”

  “Give it to me.”

  Paige handed her the ten-page document, which her mother flipped through as though she knew exactly what she was seeking.

  “Give me a pen.”

  “Are you feeling better, Mom?” Paige asked as she handed over a pen.

  Ignoring the question for the second time, she wrote something on the document and handed it back to Paige.

  “Don’t read it now. Read it later. After I’m dead. Now, if you don’t mind, I need my rest.”

  “Are you—”

  Her mother closed her eyes. “Please, Paige. I’m tired. I’ll talk to you when I wake up. If I wake up.”

  Paige left her mother’s bedside, frustrated at being shut out but trying to be empathetic. Once in the visitors’ lounge outside of the ICU, against her mother’s wishes, she sat down and flipped through the will looking for handwriting in the margins. There it was. Added to the Beneficiaries section were four names—Emma Osterman, Jessivel Salter, Tamir Noor, and Wanda Forester—each followed by “5%.”

  Paige stared at the page for a long moment, tuning out everything else in her immediate surroundings. Her mother had added Jessivel to her will as a beneficiary, meaning she’d probably known about her all along. But it surprised her that she had added Wanda, her niece, but not her sister, Wanda’s mother. And who’s Emma Osterman and Tamir Noor?

  She put the will in her purse and headed out. Life had been so much easier before all of these equivocal family issues had surfaced.

  Chapter 24

  Jessivel had decided to call Paige at her office to show her she wasn’t the only one who knew shocking things about their father. When she was told that Paige wasn’t in the office, she left a message for her, then soon regretted it and hoped she wouldn’t return the call, now questioning why she would involve herself with Paige at any level. A day passed without a return call, so Jessivel figured she’d gotten her wish. Still, she was insulted Paige hadn’t had the decency to return the call.

  She flopped down on her sofa, sinking down into the dreaded low spot. Maybe her mother was right—the past needed to be left where it belonged. Nothing good would come out of digging into the sins of her father. She should be concentrating on her barista job, getting her personal life on track, and removing herself and Kayla from the ugly stigma of public housing.

  Her phone rang.

  “Hello, Jessivel?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t recognize the voice.

  “Paige West here.”

  Oh, it was her. So formal sounding.

  “I, uh…”

  “You called me. Is there something you want to talk about?”

  “No. Um, it was nothing.”

  “It must have been something or you wouldn’t have called me. Does it have anything to do with our father?”

  “My mother wants me to leave it alone.”

  “I hear you. Mine too.”

  Now Paige’s voice sounded more human to her, relatable.

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “I think if I don’t give it up, my mother may disown me,” Jessivel said.

  “Do you think she would actually do that?”

  “I don’t know, but if she did, my daughter would lose her nana, and I don’t think she would want that.”

  “My mother asked me to stop looking into it…her dying wish, so she thinks.”

  “Your mother is dying?”

  “The doctors don’t think so,” Paige said. “But Mother does. You know, based on what she told me, there may be other siblings of ours out there.”

  “Mine thinks the same thing.”

  “My mother added the names ‘Emma Osterman’ and ‘Tamir Noor’ to the beneficiary list in her will,” Paige said. “So I’m assuming they’re two of them.” Paige didn’t mention Wanda’s name that had been added to the will since she was her cousin and had nothing to do with their father. No use muddying the waters any more than they were already.

  Jessivel wanted to know if her name was also on the will but was afraid to ask. “Wow. Hard to believe. But maybe not, based on what my mother says.”

  “What all did your mother say? Wait a minute. Could we talk about this in person? Wouldn’t that be better?”

  “You mean today?”

  “If you can.”

  “I have to be at The Busy Bean in a bit, but I’m off at three.”

  “How about if I come by at three then?”

  “Okay. You know where it is?”

  “Yes. I know where it is.”

  Jessivel’s day at The Busy Bean dragged. And when the end of her shift neared, the rocklike feeling she had in the pit of her stomach told her she may have made a mistake agreeing to meet with Paige. But by the time Paige walked through the door and waved at her, it was too late to slip out the back door.

  They drove in separate cars to a nearby park. Jessivel tried to ignore the physical signs of her nervousness, becoming more apprehensive about the meeting with each passing minute. She had to remind herself more than once to drop her shoulders and loosen her neck muscles to relieve the tension.

  At the park, she handed Paige a raspberry-infused espresso—a drink she had created herself for The Busy Bean.

  “Mmm…this is really good,” Paige said.

  Jessivel smiled to herself and nonchalantly thanked her. It had always been difficult for her to receive compliments.

  “The way I see it,” Paige began, “our father had several affairs in his life, and as a result—”

  “Affairs? He lived with us! I think that was more than just an affair. And you say it like it’s expected, like it’s okay for men to cheat on their wives.”

  “Well, statistics do show that—”

  Jessivel was stunned by Paige’s remarks and dug in her heels. “I don’t care what statistics show, he was a cheatin’ son-of-a-bitch who didn’t have sense enough to use a cock sock when he was screwin’ around.”

  Paige’s eyes went wide as she lean
ed back a couple of inches. “Must you be so crass? There’s no reason to infuse vulgarity into this discussion.”

  “And how about if you try to talk plain English?”

  Paige remained silent before appearing to relax. “Okay. You’ve made your point. I see now that we don’t view our father in the same way, that’s all. For me, despite his indiscretions, he was a loving man who was always there for us, even when he traveled.”

  “You still feel that way, after knowing he was sleeping with my mother and who knows who else?”

  “That doesn’t change what he did for us.”

  “Not me,” Jessivel snapped, annoyed that Paige thought just like her own mother. “That’s not how I see it.”

  “Can we agree to disagree then and go on from there?” Paige paused, apparently waiting for a response, but got none. “There are some things I want to share with you, and I’m interested in knowing more about my father from your experience with him and your mother’s perspective. If we share what we know, we’ll have a better picture of what really went on.”

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass about getting a ‘better picture,’ if that’s what you want to call it. I’ll leave that to you and your high-and-mighty world.” She shifted in her seat. “You know what I care about? Not being left with a penny after he died. He lived with us my whole life, provided for us, and when he died—and I found out about it long after he was dead and buried, by the way—we were left with nothing. My mother is living in some rich bitch’s mansion cleaning toilets, and I’m in government housing. That’s what I care about.”

  Paige sat motionless while Jessivel talked, the cup of coffee beside her getting cold.

  “I’m sorry you had to go through all this, Jessivel. I really am. I can’t justify or condone what my father, our father, did to you and your mother. But if we work together, maybe I can help you in some way.”

  Jessivel stood up. “I don’t need any handouts from you or anyone else. You can take your ‘searching for a better picture’ and shove it. As far as I’m concerned, our father was a no-good, lyin’, cheatin’ bastard who deserved to die!”

  Her anger only escalated as she headed for her car, not just toward Paige but more importantly toward herself for not handling the situation better. This wasn’t the first time she had lost control when something didn’t go her way. But this time was different. This time she regretted her ill-mannered behavior.

  Chapter 25

  Paige arrived at her mother’s house for her semiweekly visit to take in the mail and water her plants and was shocked to discover the front door unlocked. She’d been fastidious about securing the house each time she left, especially after the break-in. When she gently pushed open the door and peeked inside, she was struck by the silence. She waited to hear sounds, any indication that someone was inside.

  “Who is it?” a female voice shouted, causing Paige to jump back.

  “Who’s here?” she shouted back.

  Natalie, whom she’d not seen in more than a year, emerged from the hallway—her hair a chaotic nest of knots, her eyes glowing with a psychotic, watery shine. She appeared thinner than Paige remembered, unless it was just the ill-fitting clothes.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “And how nice it is to see you too, Paige.”

  “I thought someone had broken into Mom’s house, so excuse me for neglecting the pleasantries.” She checked the security system panel, which was in its normal position. “How did you get in here without tripping the alarm?”

  Natalie shrugged.

  “Mother gave you the code?”

  “It’s my house just as much as it is yours.”

  Paige didn’t believe their mother would have given Natalie the code, but how else would she have gotten in without triggering the alarm? On second thought, her mother had the bad habit of using her birthday for all her passwords, so perhaps Natalie had taken a lucky guess.

  “Fine. So what are you doing here?”

  Natalie’s posture stiffened. “I could ask you the same question? And where’s Mom?”

  “Mom’s in the hospital. I’m here to take in the mail and water the plants.”

  “No one told me about Mom.”

  “I tried calling you. Apparently I have an old cell phone number for you.”

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  “She just had surgery to remove blood clots from her lungs.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “She will be…hopefully. And you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Why are you here?”

  “Mom told me I could stay here.”

  “When?”

  Natalie shrugged. “A while ago.”

  Paige walked past her sister into the living room.

  “Go ahead. Check everything out. Be sure to go into every room. Make sure I haven’t stolen anything.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing.”

  “Like hell it isn’t.”

  “How about a truce here?” Paige asked. “Mom’s in the hospital, and I’m sure she wouldn’t appreciate us fighting in her house. So when did you and she talk about you staying here? She didn’t mention anything to me.”

  “And you would know, wouldn’t you? You stick to her like goddamn glue. Always have.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You think I don’t know how close you and Mom are? And I know you’re the executor of her will, so…”

  “So what? And why are you bringing up her will right now?”

  “I’ll probably get cut out of it, if you have anything to say about it.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. We get everything fifty-fifty. Well, maybe not now.”

  “I knew it.”

  Paige sat down on one end of the living room sofa. “I wasn’t going to say anything until I had this all figured out, but Mom recently added four names to the inheritance section of her will.”

  “Great.”

  Paige had no intention of telling Natalie about what she’d discovered about their father, but now that she’d said this much, she felt she had no choice.

  “We have half-siblings, Natalie.”

  “And I’m the one whose brain is supposed to be fried from drugs and alcohol. Ha!”

  “I’m not kidding. I know of three.”

  “You’re batshit crazy.”

  “Fine.” Paige got up from her seat and walked toward the kitchen. Natalie followed her.

  “Okay, so tell me what you’re talking about,” Natalie said, her words getting more slurred with time.

  “What are you on?”

  “Nothing...out of the ordinary.”

  “I’ll fill you in when you’re sober,” Paige said, knowing Natalie’s concerns didn’t go much beyond her next pill or drink when she was like this.

  “Stop with the pompousassness.”

  “That’s not a word. Try pomposity.”

  “You’re proving my point, big sister.”

  Uncertain where to take this conversation, Paige busied herself with filling a watering can for the plants.

  “So tell me the family dirt,” Natalie said.

  “Ask Mom. I told you all I know.”

  “Liar.”

  “Okay, so I’m a liar. Now why don’t you go lie down and sleep off whatever it is you’re on.”

  “I’m on prescription meds, if you must know.”

  “Mm-hm. If you ask me, it looks like they need to adjust the dosage some.”

  “Well, no one is asking you.”

  “Are you still with what’s-his-name?”

  “His name is Derek.”

  “Sorry. Are you still with Derek?”

  “No. We broke up. That’s why I’m here.”

  “That doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

  “I was living with him. I have no place to go.”

  “Do you have a job?”

  “No, I don’t have a job!”

  As soon as Natalie turned sideways, Paige susp
ected the worst.

  “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

  “No.”

  “Yes, you are. I can tell. Anyone could tell, Nat.”

  “So what? That does happen, you know.”

  “So now you think you’re going to move in with Mom so she can support the two of you?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Will you stop with the attitude? Just so you know, if you could only get your act together, this could work out. Mom may need someone to take care of her when she gets out of the hospital. That someone could be you,” Paige said, trying to be optimistic about Natalie’s personal issues.

  “Not me!” She let out a belly laugh. “I can’t even take care of myself.”

  Paige refrained from saying what she really wanted to say, knowing she’d regret it later. “Well, you may have to put on your big-girl pants when she gets home. Start making yourself useful. Get off the meds and become a productive member of society.”

  “You know I need the meds.”

  “Really? Or is it just an addiction?”

  “Just an addiction. For someone who’s so smart, you are so frickin’ stupid.”

  “You’ve seen an obstetrician, right?”

  Natalie didn’t respond.

  “Right?”

  “I’m not that far along.”

  “You need to see one as soon as possible.”

  “Didn’t do you much good, did it?”

  Silence filled the room before a sudden sensation of cold expanded inside of her. Paige turned and walked toward the door, almost knocking over a plant stand on her way out.

  She sat in her running car for a few minutes before putting it into gear, vacillating between disbelief, hurt, and rage brought on by her sister’s comment. Eager to be alone in the comfort of her own surroundings, she backed out of her mother’s driveway and drove home.

  Chapter 26

  Jessivel stomped back to her car and drove away, fuming over her encounter with Paige. She talked about their father as if he were some kind of saint who just made a couple of minor mistakes in his life. But wasn’t that the way it was in this unfair world—a man’s “rich” daughter is left in a field of sunshine and roses, while his “poor” one is clawing her way out of a garbage can. She fondled the ring on the chain around her neck, confused as to how she regarded it anymore.