Norma smiled at Chris. “That’s all right, dear, I’m content to be here with all of you.”
Chris looked around at everyone, somewhat bewildered, and then back at me. I wasn’t sure what she needed, so I just winked at her.
Felicia cleared her throat and continued a conversation from earlier in the day. “Norma, remember when I told you my mother was your number one fan?” Norma nodded. “Well I just remembered that I have her scrapbooks at home. She collected newspaper and magazine articles on you, and glued them onto paper, and keep them in a notebook. It was her only hobby.”
“How sweet of her,” Norma replied, stifling a yawn.
“But that’s great,” George exclaimed. “I can use some of those pictures for Norma’s biography. Will you let me borrow it for a while, Felicia? It will take me some time to track down the copyright holders.”
“I’d be happy to, George,” Felicia replied. “It will take me almost as long to find it again.”
We all laughed, and then the room grew quiet again. Chris looked around at each of us again, and then suddenly got up and began to pace. I could tell she was getting agitated.
“Chris.” I said her name softly, and she stopped and looked at me. “Why don’t you rehearse what you’re going to say to him? It might help you to say it out loud.”
“Yes, that’s a good idea,” Felicia said, “You’ll feel better if you’re prepared.”
“I am prepared, Mother,” Chris said obstinately. “I’ve been saying I’m sorry since the day I sobered up.”
“But have you said it out loud to someone?” I asked.
Chris looked at me for a moment, and finally relented. “Okay, well, I’m going to introduce myself to him—”
“But how will you say it, Chris? That’s the important part,” Felicia said. “I don’t think it is advisable to say ‘Hello, I’m the woman who ran over you with my car, please forgive me.’”
“Your mother is right, dear,” Norma said. “He already knows you are the one, no need to refresh that memory for him.”
Chris thought for a moment, and nodded. “Okay, I can see what you’re saying, and I think you’re right.” She began to pace again, but this time it was to help her think. “Hello, Mr. Clemens, my name is Christine Livingston, and I’ve come to apologize.”
“That’s good, keep it short and sweet and then get the hell out of there,” Felicia suggested.
“Mom, you know that’s not how it’s going to go. He may not even let me apologize. He may hate me so bad that he rips me a new one before I can get a word out.”
Norma leaned over to George and asked, “I’m sorry, what does she mean, rip a new one?”
George explained as best he could without being too vulgar that it was slang for ripping a new hole in Chris’s ass. I couldn’t help but grin at the shocked look in Norma’s eyes when they registered what he was saying. “Thank you, dear,” she patted George’s hands, “for that less than wholesome visual. Let’s keep that one out of my book, all right?”
George laughed and nodded.
“All right then,” Felicia said to Chris, “let’s address that possibility. What if he does become angry with you, Chris? How will you respond to it?”
“I’ll stand there and take it. How else would I respond?”
“Yes, dear. But you must answer his anger, if only to help calm him down,” Norma stated.
Chris shook her head. “Are you saying that I argue back, Norma? I can’t do that. That’s not what I’m there for.”
“No, not argue, placate,” Felicia answered before Norma could. “If you want him to hear your apology, you may have to calm him down first.”
“Okay, I understand.” Chris clasped her hands together. “This is helping. What else do you think I should do?”
George offered, “He’s in a wheelchair, so make sure you’re not standing when you apologize to him. You need to be eye level with him to show respect.”
Felicia nodded. “Yes, that’s very important, George.”
“Of course,” Chris said, “I had thought of doing that already, but keep your ideas coming. I need all the help I can get.”
“That’s just it, Chris,” I said confidently. “You don’t need any more help. You can do this.”
Chris came and sat down beside me. I took her hand in mine and kissed it softly. She looked forlornly into my eyes and my heart broke. She fidgeted with my fingers as if they were something new that fascinated her, and I knew she was contemplating everything that had been said. I could feel the energy drain out of her, as if she had let go of some of her anxieties. I wondered if she’d be able to sleep now.
“Why don’t we call it a night and get some sleep?” I said to everyone. “You need your rest, Chris, and besides, it will speed things up and make it that much sooner for it all to be over with.”
At first, I was sure she would say no by the way she tensed up beside me. But then she looked at Norma, who could barely keep her eyes open.
“You’re right, Melinda. Let’s call it a night,” Chris said, and then stood up, holding her hand out to me.
Everyone was relieved that she would try and sleep. And after helping Norma and the kittens out of the recliner, we all walked in different directions, calling good night to one another. But once Chris and I settled into bed, it took her a long time to fall asleep.
“What do you need from me, Chris?” I asked, hoping to be of some comfort to her.
“Just hold me close, okay? Just let me lie here in your arms and feel safe tonight.”
I pulled her close and rubbed her back. I even hummed a lullaby, but she just could not go to sleep. And then I learned another reason why she was fighting sleep.
“Melinda.”
“Yeah, Chris.”
“I’m sorry that I’m putting you through this,” she whispered.
“I’m not. I’m glad you love me enough to let me be a part of this.”
She lifted her head, her eyes shimmering with tears. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“Why not? It’s true,” I replied.
“Because it makes me love you more, and that makes me worry more about what you will think of me after I grovel in front of him today.”
“I know, without a doubt in my heart, that you will only make me love you more. Listen, you’re doing the right thing, but that doesn’t mean you have to sell your soul to this guy. Besides, I won’t let you, because your soul belongs to me now, as the other half of my soul. I can’t survive without my soulmate.”
“Oh, Melinda. You are such a romantic, thank you for that.” Chris yawned and laid her head on my breast and cradled my other breast with the palm of her hand. And although it lit a fire in my lower regions, I suppressed it, because Chris had blissfully fallen asleep.
Chapter Sixteen
The Day of Atonement — Meg Bumgartner and Frankie Bonner
“What the hell?” I yelled into the phone.
“What is it, Meg?” Frankie rolled over and looked at me.
I clasped the phone to my chest. “It’s nothing, honey, go back to sleep.” I got out of bed and walked to the window, trying not to disturb her, but it was too late for that.
She sat up and looked at the clock. “Who the hell would be calling you at four in the morning?”
Again I covered the phone. “It’s my informant,” I said, and quickly put the phone back to my ear. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me this before now? I’ve already set up a meeting with the man for today!” I listened to Clancy grovel his excuses about being out of town, and only just being able to tell me what he had learned from his snitch. Oh yeah, that’s going to cost me extra. Paying my snitch so he can pay his snitch, what a racket. “Are you absolutely sure about this Intel?” I demanded, but he was emphatic about it, and I knew I could trust his information. I only wished I had received it sooner to better prepare Chrissie for today. I thanked my informant and hung up.
“It was that weasel Clancy, wasn’t it?�
� Frankie asked and I nodded, walking back to stand beside our bed. “He likes to call early in the morning just to piss me off.”
“Well this time he struck gold,” I informed her, “and I’m glad he woke me up to tell me about it.”
“Is it about Chris?” she asked.
“Yeah, and it’s a game changer for sure. Do you think it’s too early to call Chris and let her know?”
“Yes, and in fact,” she stopped long enough to yawn, “I think it’s too early to even tell me about it, now come back to bed.”
The Day of Atonement aka Recompense — Thomas Clemens
I have looked forward to this day ever since I was run down by that drunken bitch. I used to imagine several different scenarios for our encounter, even before they called and asked for a meeting. Most of those scenarios ended with my crushing her head into the ground with my foot. But that initial rage had transformed into a less murderous anger, because I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life in prison. I want to be free to enjoy her groveling over and over again. If I’m clever enough, I can have her begging for mercy, even as I use her father to increase my investments.
My wife tells me to take the high road, because my resentment of this girl will only perpetuate more antagonism, and that’s not good for my health. I told her that I had never been healthier.
What was I to do? Forget about the excruciating rehab, the agonizing loss of mobility, and the debilitating loss of my manhood? No fucking way. Then of course, my wife points out that my manhood is very much intact again, my rehab was over months ago, and my mobility has returned.
And then there’s the business relationship that I’ve formed with Carl Livingston, who has made me a millionaire, even more so after he had paid me off, because the payoff went to pay all the medical bills. He never pleaded his daughter’s case to me, but he has over the past year spoken of her efforts to get clean and sober, and it sounded to me as if she had suffered greatly already, because of the accident. That felt good to know. My anger was still in control of my morals, because even now, every time I closed my eyes I could feel her car crushing my bones.
I’m not sure how I will react to this girl today. I have an idea for retribution that will probably piss off Carl, and embarrass the hell out of his daughter, but I think it will be worth it, considering all that I had to live through for the past year. And it will show that I’m not the victim anymore, and not the bad guy either.
The Day of Atonement — Chris Livingston, Melinda Blackstone, Meg Bumgartner, and Thomas Clemens
“Okay, it’s time, let’s get this over with,” I said unsteadily, and led the way out to Meg’s car. She thought it best that she drove us there, thinking she was the calmest of the three of us. She was right.
On the drive over, Meg wanted to tell me something she had learned about my victim, but I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want anything to change my concentration now, not when I’m so close to getting this done. It didn’t matter what she had to say, it only mattered that I stay focused and push through my fears once and for all.
As we pulled up the driveway to Mr. Clemens’s house, Melinda about had a conniption fit.
“What the fuck? His mansion is as big as ours is,” she bellowed.
“Remember, my father said he made him a rich man, so I guess this is the result of that,” I said, becoming even more apprehensive because I realized, if he was rich, he didn’t need financial help from me, which left me pretty much with nothing to offer him.
Meg led the way up to the front door, and Melinda squeezed my hand as we waited to enter. The butler opened the door and led us into a study, saying that Mr. Clemens would join us shortly.
It was a modern mansion, made of metal and glass, with a more sterile atmosphere. I was impressed, but still preferred my Victorian Queen Ann. I suddenly had the urge to run back to my mansion and hide under my pillow. This house was on the opposite side of town, thank God, closer to millionaire’s row, and was probably built in the last ten years.
The double doors opened suddenly, and I gasped uncontrollably, but it was the butler again, bringing a tray with finger sandwiches and iced tea that he set on the table in the middle of a circle of leather chairs. He showed us the liquor cabinet and asked if anyone wanted a stronger libation. In a knee jerk reaction to what I thought was an impertinent question, considering why I was there, I assured him that we did not, without allowing my comrades to answer for themselves. He nodded and closed the doors behind him as he left the room.
Melinda and Meg looked around at the books and trinkets lying about, but I looked out the window at the skyline of Memphis. Again, I found myself wishing I was on a riverboat heading down river, away from reality.
The double doors opened again, and the butler pushed a man in a wheelchair into the room. He set the brakes on the chair, and then placed a shawl across the man’s legs, handed him a glass of tea, and then he left again.
It seemed like an eternity before he spoke, though he seemed to know who I was, because his eyes were throwing daggers at me, piercing through my brain.
He finally asked, “Which one of you is Christine Livingston?”
For a split second, my cowardice had me hoping that Melinda or Meg would step forward in my stead, but I found the courage, and walked over to him on shaky legs. “I’m Christine, Mr. Clemens, and I’m here to…” I remembered that I needed to be at eye level before I apologized, so I asked if he minded if I sat down.
“Of course, how rude of me,” he said, I think sincerely. “Please, won’t you all have a seat?” He spoke to everyone, but never broke eye contact with me. I got the impression he was sizing me up, almost as if he were looking for weaknesses. What he couldn’t know was that my entire mind, body and soul were as weak as a kitten at the moment. “Would you like to introduce me to your friends?” he asked, reminding me that I did indeed have my friends with me.
“Oh dear, my manners are lacking today. This is my partner, Melinda Blackstone, and this is my good friend, Meg Bumgartner.” Melinda sat down beside me on the settee and tucked her hand, palm up, just a little ways under my butt, so that it wasn’t obvious, but so I could feel her support, and I was grateful for her secret touch.
Meg sat in the chair directly across from Mr. Clemens, and I could tell by her demeanor that she was sizing him up, just as he had me.
He turned to Meg and stated, “It was you who called and asked for this meeting on her behalf, was it not?”
“Yes. I’m a private investigator as well as being her friend, and asked if I could be the one to contact you.”
“That was very nice of you, I’m sure.”
In my nervous state, I couldn’t decide if he was being condescending or sincere. “Mr. Clemens, we are here, I mean, I am here to offer my sincerest apologies to you for hurting you. I am so very sorry, and if there is anything I can do to make it up to you, I would gratefully do it.”
“Thank you,” he said flatly. “I’m sure that took a lot of courage on your part, but it is not nearly enough for me.”
My heart shattered into a million pieces, and my words escaped on my tears, before I could catch them.
Meg must have seen that I couldn’t speak, because I heard her say, “Perhaps if I told you what Chrissie has done to turn her life around so she could help people less fortunate than she is, you might understand the lengths she has gone to because of what she did to you.”
“So, is that why she felt compelled to bring you with her, so that you can brag her up?” His voice had a twinge of anger in it. “Don’t waste your breath and my time.”
“Why not?” Melinda asked. “It’s because of you that she has started the ‘Pay It Forward’ program, and because of you that she will start a scholarship program next month for college students who have a drinking problem.” Melinda had cleverly told him anyway, but it didn’t make the slightest difference.
“And it’s because of her that I spent months in excruciating pain as they untangled my
bones and set them straight. I lost my damn job because of her, and my fucking insurance ran out.” He was getting increasingly agitated, but I kept my mouth shut, knowing this might happen. “And it’s fucking because of her that I couldn’t perform my manly duties as a father and as a husband.”
“Mr. Clemens,” Meg said calmly, but I could tell she was livid. “As I said, I am a private investigator, and I checked you out. Would you like to know what I learned?”
I shook my head vigorously and waved my hands. “No! It doesn’t matter what you learned, Meg. I hurt this man, and nothing else matters. I’m not here to accuse him, I’m here to beg his forgiveness.”
Meg looked at me for a moment, I believe trying to decide if she should speak anyway. What had she learned that she thought could be used against him now? It didn’t matter, I still hit the man with my car, and still needed to make amends for it, no matter what he might have done.
“And if I won’t forgive you, Ms. Livingston, what then?” he asked snidely, as if he were testing me.
“Then I will go home and cry, and the next day I will get up and cry some more. I will learn to live with what I have done to you, but I will still do my best to make amends, if not to you, then with someone else less fortunate.”
“And if I do forgive you, then what?” He was testing me, and I saw a glimmer of hope.
“If you do forgive me, I will go home and cry tears of joy, and get up the next morning eager to continue my quest to pay it forward.”
“And if I require compensation from you first?” Now he was toying with me, but to what end?
“What the hell,” Melinda sniped, “her father has already paid you millions and then invested that money for you, making you rich off the accident. How much more bloodsucking do you need to do?”
I cringed, sure that he would really blow up now, but he didn’t.
He calmly stared at Melinda. “She is the one who hit me with her car, not her father. I made a deal with him, and have stuck to it, but she is the one who came to me, and she is ultimately the one to pay retribution.”
Combining Riches (Riches to Rags Book 2) Page 18