by M. S. Parker
Her running commentary was a welcome interlude from Didi’s grumbling.
“I could have gotten some work done,” I said, sipping my wine to keep from smiling when Didi turned an irate glare on me. “You never time things right.”
“Bite me.” She bent over the stove, and I lapsed into silence as she checked the turkey. Her aggrieved moan said everything. “It’ll be another thirty minutes or so, at least.”
“And how long until your guest arrives?”
“Well, I’m going to have Christal throw your ass out the window, so you’ll need to go to the emergency room, and it’s a weekend, we’re probably looking at a few hours before you’ll even be seen…” She trailed off, but there was a faint smile on her lips. “Yes, I’m a bad planner. Shoot me.”
“Nah.” Shoving off the seat, I went to hug her. “It’s not like most of this stuff won’t hold until the turkey’s done. And…” I scooped up another deviled egg. “I’ll take care of the things that won’t.”
I hadn’t eaten breakfast. Or dinner the previous night, I didn’t think. Too often, I forgot meals, and when I finally remembered to eat, I was ravenous. Case in point: I’d already demolished four or five deviled eggs and several of the bacon-wrapped dates.
“You better leave some of those for me,” Christal called from the other room. “Better yet, bring them in here.”
I nodded at Didi and took the plate, carrying them into the living room where Christal was watching TV and sipping wine.
“Should I feel bad that I can’t go in there and help without risk of setting the place ablaze or cutting off a thumb?” She took an egg and popped it into her mouth.
“No. I think she likes your thumbs in place and the building not ablaze.” I gave her a fond smile.
I put the plate down and roamed over to the window, staring outside. I always felt restless when I wasn’t working. I didn’t relax well.
“Besides, if she didn’t like the chaos of it, she wouldn’t have insisted on cooking, and we would have gone out to eat like normal people do.”
“Only rich people think that’s how normal people do it.” She laughed.
Glancing at her, I shrugged. “Guilty.”
Since Didi had threatened to stab me with a knife if I so much as pulled out my phone, I sat down next to Christal and studied the TV. I knew better than to suggest that we find something other than football. She liked ogling the cheerleaders too much.
I sighed. “Who’s playing?”
When the doorbell rang thirty minutes later, I was the one to answer. Christal was opening another bottle of wine – the one kitchen chore she said she excelled at – and Didi was still glaring at the turkey.
“Hello, Senator.”
Sondra Thatcher stood on the doorstep. A few feet away, her bodyguard stood with her. He only nodded while Sondra reached out with both hands. “Dash! How good to see you!”
The enthusiastic greeting caught me off guard. We’d met just a few times, but I took her hands and let her tug me in closer so she could kiss my cheek.
“Sondra!”
Didi’s voice rang out behind me, and I stepped aside.
As my friend rushed up to greet Sondra, I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans. Was this the surprise Didi mentioned? I needed to talk to her about expectations. Then again, it was better than her trying to set me up on another disastrous date.
A few low murmurs passed between them before I caught the conspiratorial look, then Didi shook her head.
“Ahhh…I see. Well then.” Sondra came inside, her bodyguard trailing behind. Sondra did a round of introductions, and I shook Marcus’s hand.
Once the pleasantries were over, I focused back on Didi and Sondra. “So what was with that ahhh, I see…moment?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Sondra said airily. “Didi, you must let me help in the kitchen. I hardly ever have time to cook these days, and I miss it.”
Didi hooked her arm through Sondra’s and led the other woman off, leaving me to glare at their backs.
“You might as well just go with it,” Marcus said.
I glanced at him.
“She’ll tell you when she’s ready, and if you nag her, she’ll drag it out.” He smiled faintly. “She can be obstinate that way.”
Great.
“It sounds like your entire life has been focused on this clinic.” Christal eyed me over her wine glass, an amused smile on her lips.
Didi took the butter knife she’d been using and pretended to stab herself in the throat. “Don’t get him started, baby.” She made a face at her girlfriend. “You know better. I warned you. You’re not around him as much as I am, but I warned you.”
Christal lifted a hand. “Hey, I’m working crazy hours. Besides, I think it’s admirable.”
“I’m not doing it for praise,” I said after a few seconds. I knew she didn’t mean it that way, but I always felt the need to explain myself. “I’m doing it because it needs to be done. Too many addicts fall through the cracks, and I wanted to help whoever I can.”
“Dash.” Didi reached over from where she was sitting. “You couldn’t have helped.”
Shaking my head, I kept my attention on the food overfilling my plate. “It’s not about her – that. Not anymore. Look, let’s change the subject, okay?”
“Oh…oh, my.” She clutched the table, pretending like she’d fallen from the chair, and she got the smile she’d been aiming for. “I feel faint…”
“You’re such a dramatic soul, Didi.” Sondra laughed into her wineglass. “You should have pursued acting.”
“Heaven forbid.” Didi made a face. Reaching for her own glass, she lifted it. “A toast. To friends, to the future, to good things.”
“I think it’s time we tell him, Didi,” Sondra said as soon as we’d finished the toast.
“Sondra!”
Lowering my glass, I looked from the senator to Didi, my gaze narrowing. “Tell me what?”
Didi made a face. “Oh, fine.” She waved a hand. “Sondra called me two days ago to get your number. She had it programmed into her phone, but she had to get a new one, and your number didn’t get transferred over for some reason. Anyway, I made her tell me why.”
She smiled over at Sondra, who was smiling as well.
The senator continued the story, “Once I told her, she asked if I’d like to join you for dinner and give you the news then. She wanted to be there.”
I shot Didi a look. She shrugged at me. “I know how much this means to you.”
“What, exactly, are we talking about?”
“Your clinic is all cleared and squared away.” Sondra gave me a brilliant smile. “You’re good to go.”
“It’s…” I gripped the table hard, not wanting to dare to believe what I was hearing. Years of work. Done. “Are you serious?”
“Quite.” Sondra had that ‘cat ate the canary’ look about her.
“Shit. Son of a bitch. Hell.” Then I scowled. “Sorry, Senator.”
She broke out into a laugh. “Please. I say worse all the time. Those idiots in Washington would drive a saint to swear. And I’m far from a saint.” She took a sip of her wine and reached for her fork. “Let’s eat, and we’ll talk. I’m sure you’re curious.”
“There’s not much to talk about. All we needed to do was clear away the red tape. Once we did that, it’s pretty much done.”
“Well…” She cleared her throat delicately.
“What?”
Sondra and Didi exchanged glances, and I started to wonder if I’d gotten my hopes up too soon.
“There are still a few things that need to be dealt with.”
“Like what?” Confused, I leaned back in the chair to meet her eyes, appetite gone.
“Eat your food, Dash. Goodness.” She rolled her eyes, good-natured merriment on her face. “We just need to discuss a few things about your hiring process to make sure you’ve got the right people on the inside.”
“What do you
mean by that?” I demanded.
Didi huffed out a sigh. “Can’t we eat and discuss this later?”
“We can do both now,” I offered.
She eyed my plate.
Frowning at her, I grabbed the fork and shoved in a bite of food just so the senator would keep talking.
“Fine,” she said with a weary sigh. She began to speak, the political and legal jargon enough to make my head spin.
“As you can see, you’re so close to this. You need some outside people to help finish filling some of these positions. You need an advisor to help you when it comes to developing the board. You can see that, right?” She beamed at me.
“Somebody from outside,” I said slowly. “No. Actually, I don’t see.” I tossed the wine back like it was whiskey, wished it was, then reminded myself I’d stopped letting myself have any sort of crutch when it came to dealing with the shit life threw at me. Not that I’d ever really needed them, but…
Focus. “Senator, I appreciate all the help you’ve given me–”
“Then please,” she said, interrupting with polite firmness. “Continue to allow me to give it. You need some eyes on the project that aren’t so...invested. You’ll need those as you continue, once the clinic is open.”
I had a hundred things I could say to that. A thousand.
But Didi laid a hand on mine. “Dash. She’s right. You need somebody there who doesn’t bleed for the place. Emotion is fine. But you need objectivity too.”
They were right.
“Dammit.”
Twelve
Astra
“Drink, ma’am?”
The flight attendant stopped by the seat where Camry and I were sitting, giving us both a polished, perfect smile as she waited for us to answer.
Camry said, “Water, please.”
“And would you like a snack?”
The younger woman nodded. I declined the snack, but asked for a glass of wine, glancing at Camry as the attendant moved away.
“Is it okay I did that? I should have asked first, but I don’t do too well on planes.”
“It’s fine.” Camry gave me a tired smile. “I’ll be around all sorts of people who drink. Maybe drugs too. I’ll do my best to avoid those people, but college isn’t exactly a convent. I can’t control what other people do. I can control myself.”
She said the last two sentences like a mantra, but she also looked confident, like she believed them instead of simply reciting them. That was an improvement over how she’d been even just a couple of months ago.
“You’ll be fine. Plenty of time to get settled in before the second semester begins.” Covering her hand with mine, I squeezed it lightly. I was still more skeptical than Piety when it came to Camry’s sobriety, but even I’d been able to see how hard she was trying to make amends and stay clean.
“Thanks. Your support means a lot, Astra.” She started to say something else, stopped, then continued, her accent thickening as she twisted her fingers together. “I have a favor to ask.”
“What’s that?” I asked warily.
“If I screw up, I need you to make sure my brother and Piety don’t bail me out.”
I blinked. Not what I was expecting.
“I need someone who’ll tell them to let me go to jail or back into rehab, no matter how much I beg. I’ll try to be strong, but I can’t promise that, if I mess up, I won’t try to talk them out of sending me away. I need you to make sure that they don’t give in.”
I studied her for a moment. She was tiny, and with her light brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, she looked more like a teenager than an adult...until you saw her eyes. They made her look twice my age instead of two years younger. She didn’t necessarily scream ex-junkie, but she seemed to understand that no matter how different she looked, the temptation wouldn’t go away.
“I’ll do it,” I said finally. “I would’ve done it anyway, but the fact that you asked makes me trust you more.”
Before Camry could respond, the flight attendant returned with our drinks. After she’d moved on to check with the others in first class, the younger girl gave me a wide-eyed look.
“They give you one in first class before they even take off?”
“They better.” Rolling my eyes, I lifted the glass to my lips and took a long drink before continuing, “They charge a ridiculous amount for these tickets.”
Camry laughed and wiggled her butt in the seat. “Well, you also get these big, comfy seats where you can actually move. Being rich has got to be so awesome.”
I didn’t offer any sort of answer. What was there to say?
I loved being able to go shopping whenever I wanted, and it didn’t hurt that I had all this wiggle room sitting in first class. Being able to buy that cute Coach bag I’d seen while we were killing time thanks to a flight delay wasn’t anything to sneeze at either.
But there were things money couldn’t buy.
I’d heard Kaleb and Camry talking about vacations they’d taken with their parents before the car accident left the pair orphans. Simple enough affairs that would probably have made me break out in hives, like camping. For real camping. Tents and everything. I was a city girl through and through. But having my mom and dad spend that kind of time with me?
And Camry’s dad had taught her how to swim. Himself. She hadn’t had a private instructor come to her home and do it in their personal Olympic-sized pool while her parents were off doing God knew what. I thought about Jamie and her miserable parents. They hadn’t been rich, but they hadn’t exactly been poor, either. And they hadn’t given that girl any love at all. There were more important things in life than money, and Camry had made bank in at least one of those areas. A part of me couldn’t help but wonder if that had played a role in the fact that Camry was here and Jamie wasn’t.
I gave myself a mental shake.
“So, have you decided what you want to major in?” I asked, keenly aware of the insightful look she was giving me. She had a way of seeing straight through people, and I had no doubt she’d been putting that skill to work on me just then.
“I want to do what you and Piety are doing.” She gave me a sheepish shrug. “Piety…well, Kaleb knew I was in trouble, but Piety…she had a way of making me realize that I either needed to fix myself or…” Her words trailed off as she glanced past me to study her brother and Piety, talking quietly on the other side of the aisle. After another moment of hesitation, she finished, “It was time I either fixed myself or killed myself. She didn’t say that. She didn’t make me feel like that. But she made me see that I’d been doing that anyway, killing myself. If I was going to do it, why be slow? Why drag it out? I just needed to decide I wanted to die…or if I was ready to live.”
Misery burned inside, reminding again of Jamie. For the cries of help the young girl had thrown out, only to have them go unheard. She’d decided she wanted to die, had seen no other way out. I’d cared, and I hadn’t seen how close to the edge she’d been. I should have. Otherwise, what the hell was I doing?
Camry sighed, shaking her head. “I sound kind of pitiful, don’t I?”
“No,” I quickly cut in before she could start feeling any guiltier. “You sound like somebody who understands where she’s come from and accepted that she needs help.”
Any further conversation was halted by a man’s voice coming on the intercom, and Camry and I both settled back for the tedious in-flight announcements. Taking my wine, I lifted it to my lips and settled more comfortably in my seat. I had a long flight ahead and some thoughts to think.
“You’re quiet.”
Piety’s voice caught me off-guard. Jumping, I looked over at her. “When did you sit down?”
She grinned at me. “Camry wanted to talk to Kaleb. She gets nervous flying, I think.”
“That’s because she’s smart. We’re hurtling thousands of feet over the earth at hundreds of miles an hour. Who wouldn’t be nervous?” I reached for my wine, only to remember I’d already emptied it. Dam
mit.
“I’m not.” Piety shrugged. “Fewer people die from plane crashes than car crashes.”
“I bet there are fewer people flying than driving, so that makes sense.” Rolling my eyes, I pushed the button for the flight attendant. Now, Piety had me thinking about planes and crashes. My pulse ratcheted up a notch.
“You’re such a mess.” She sighed and settled back as the flight attendant came to a stop next to us.
Once the attendant left to get my wine, Piety looked over at me. “Are you sure about this move? I mean, I know you’re hurting over Jamie, but this is a big change, even for you.”
“That’s the point.” I lifted a shoulder. “I need a change. Desperately.”
Her eyes softened. “I understand, but this? Malibu is so far from Philadelphia. What about your kids?”
“They need somebody better.” Shaking my head, I looked out the window. Jamie had needed somebody better. Maybe if she’d had someone else to talk to, she wouldn’t have done what she did. Maybe she’d be alive right now, trying to decide what to do about her baby.
Piety put her hand on my arm. “You’re punishing yourself because she committed suicide, but that wasn’t your fault. Blame her parents. Blame the jackass who got her pregnant but didn’t offer her any support.”
Sighing, I closed my eyes, wishing I could believe her words.
“What if you’re miserable out here? Then what?”
“Right. I’ll be miserable in Malibu.” I sniffed and looked over at her. “I hate the cold. I hate winter. I hate snow. Please tell me why I wouldn’t love Malibu for the weather alone.”
“You love your kids,” she said quietly. “We both know that even if you’d gotten bored at the shelter, you would’ve kept in touch with them. And you love your parents, even if they can be idiots sometimes. You had friends at work.”
“I’ll have you,” I countered. “You and Kaleb and Camry. And I’ll still keep in touch with the kids and people from work. Social media’s a great thing.” I swallowed hard. “I’ll find other things to love. I need to find something else. Even thinking about walking into the shelter right now hurts. Staying, it would’ve destroyed me.” I made myself look at her. I didn’t like revealing any sort of weakness, not even to my best friend.