Destination D

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Destination D Page 26

by Lori Beard-Daily


  “How do I know that you are telling me the truth now?”

  “Go look in my purse.”

  “If I can get up after that kick, I’d be Superman,” he said as he slowly tried to get up off the floor. An unexpected twinge pulled him back down to his knees. His head was also throbbing from the wine.

  “I’m sorry, Chris. But I thought you were going to kill me,” she said as she walked over to the dresser to get her purse.

  “Oh, I was. Don’t get me wrong.” He thought about how he’d seen his entire career flash before his eyes right before Dee kicked him. He was so scared by the thought of how he’d lost his self-control that he forgot about his pain and managed to pick himself up from the floor. “Where in the hell did you ever learn to duck like that?”

  “I take kickboxing.”

  “That figures,” he said, as he finally caught his breath. “Something else that I don’t know about you.”

  “Here,” she said. She was still feeling a little light-headed from the wine, but managed to pull the contents she was looking for out of her purse. “Take a look at this.”

  “Is this what you wanted me to see? Your airline ID? So what does that prove?”

  “Go look in the closet,” she said walking him toward it.

  “Flight attendant uniforms. So what?” Chris said as he sifted through them. “You could have purchased all of this stuff just to tell me another lie. And anyone could have a fake ID. Every time I looked in your closet before, you had a briefcase, double breasted suits—the works!”

  “I thought you’d feel that way. That’s why I want you to come downstairs with me when I check out so that you can meet the crew that I fly with.”

  “You’ve got to be joking.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m more serious than I have ever been in my life, Chris.”

  “Listen, Desiree…I mean Deir…Oh, hell! I’m not coming down to meet anybody. Especially not after a night like this.”

  “Look, Chris. I’ve been lying for a long time. All I want to do is be truthful for once. Even if you don’t want to have anything else to do with me, at least we could end this relationship with the truth. The real truth.”

  “I’ve had all the truths that I can take for one night.”

  “All right, then, if you don’t want to meet my flight crew, then let me give this to you,” she said, pulling an envelope from her purse.

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s an airline ticket.”

  “For what? You don’t think that I’m about to fly some place with you do you?”

  “Chris, it’s an open ticket for you to see me work a flight. Maybe you’ll forgive me eventually, and take advantage of it when your schedule permits.”

  “I don’t think I can take any more of your work, Dee. Besides I don’t need a free ticket from you.”

  “Won’t you please let me try and make something right out of all of this?”

  “No, I’ve got to get out of here,” he said despondently. “The sight of you is making me physically ill. Here, take this back,” he said handing her the ticket. “I certainly won’t be needing it.”

  “Okay, maybe I’ll see you later? I know you need some time to digest all of this.” Her mouth quivered as she tried to hold back her tears.

  Chris was tired of her performance and wanted to leave before the second act of her show. “Yeah, much later,” he said as he grabbed his jacket and limped toward the doorway to let himself out.

  Damaged Belongings

  Dee felt as if she had been hit by an assembly line of cars. All she wanted to do was curl up with a good book and pretend that yesterday had never happened. She reveled in the fact that she and Pam’s schedules were so opposite that they rarely were ever home at the same time. Today she was really looking forward to being home alone.

  She slid the key into the doorknob, opened the door and pulled her luggage through. Without warning, her hopes of solitude were dashed. Still clad in her silk pajamas, Pam was sitting in the kitchen, reading the newspaper, and sipping a cup of coffee.

  “Hey, what’s up?” Dee walked in the kitchen and pretended to sound like she was happy to see her.

  “Hey, girl,” Pam said sluggishly. Her eyes stared out blankly at the bare branches that tapped softly against the kitchen windowpane.

  Dee glanced down at her watch. “Pam, what are you doing at home in the middle of the morning?”

  “Huh?” Pam answered, still preoccupied with the branch’s images.

  Dee sat down next to her. “I said, what are you doing home?”

  “I’m taking a little time off, that’s all.”

  “You?”

  “Uh huh,” Pam said, continuing to sip her coffee and stare outside.

  Dee got up and placed her hand over Pam’s forehead. “No fever. So what’s really going on with you? Does this time off have anything to do with you and Amanda?”

  “My answer remains the same. I’m taking some time off.”

  “You said that already, but why now?”

  “I don’t think I’ve taken a vacation in three years and I deserve it.” Pam sounded like she was trying to convince herself. She placed the cup carefully on the table and wandered toward the rays that were coming through the window, feeling the sun’s warmth.

  “Pam, I don’t know what’s going on, but I do know you well enough to know that this is not like you,” she said thoughtfully. She looked down on the floor and saw a small stack of papers sitting next to her chair. Dee scanned the statements from each of the paralegals in the office. Amanda Shipman was typed on every document. She walked over and placed her arm around Pam, who stood erect, managing to hold back her tears.

  “I was right. You are home because of this issue with Amanda. What is happening with the two of you? This is so out of control!”

  Pam chuckled slightly as she walked over to the coffee maker and poured herself another cup.

  “What does this mean?”

  “Well, according to the firm, I won’t be selected for partnership at this time.” She choked on the words. “I mean, why would they make me partner if so many paralegals are afraid to work with me, right?” Pam turned her head back toward the window.

  “Well, is any of it true? Any of it at all?”

  Pam turned around and looked at Dee like she had just knifed her in the back. “Look, I work damn hard and have made that firm a helluva lot of money. And if you—or anyone else, for that matter—think that I’m going to let one whining bitch run through the firm and get all of these other whining-ass bitches to make besmirching and false accusations about me, then you’re just as bad as they are! The only difference is that I’m not going to sue you!” Pam slammed down her coffee cup, spilling its contents onto the countertop before tearing out of the kitchen.

  Dee followed Pam and stood in the doorway of her bedroom. It was hard to believe that she was talking about the same person that they went to college with not so long ago. “Pam…I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to imply that—”

  “Leave me the fuck alone, Dee! It’s bad enough that they won’t even let me confront her to defend myself, and now I’ve got to defend myself to you, too! All of you can just go straight to hell!” Pam yelled, slamming the door in her face. Despite her better judgment, Dee opened Pam’s door slightly and stood in the doorway.

  “Pam, don’t take this out on me. I was only trying to find out what was true and what wasn’t.”

  Pam shot her an inquisitive look and all of a sudden she seemed miraculously calmer. “I know…I would have asked the same thing. I mean, it’s what any good attorney would do right?”

  “Very funny, Pam. I’m not going to let you turn this into a discussion about me, okay? So, what are you going to do about this? I know you. I’m sure you’ve already got a plan.”

  “I really don’t know yet.”

  “I find that really hard to believe, Pam. You? Listen, I don’t know how all of this has spun so out of control, but I do know that
Amanda is one of us. You can’t allow this to happen. This relationship has to be salvaged.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I can’t come between you and her. I have a relationship with Tracey and Amanda, and I can’t stand to see the two of you going at it like this.”

  Pam shook her head solemnly. “I’m just so damn mad right now that all I can do is picture myself placing my hands around the necks of Amanda and those pompous bastards!” She picked up a pillow from her bed and tossed it across the room, missing Dee’s head by a few inches.

  “Ooookay,” Dee remarked, as she darted out of the way. “Maybe you should take a couple of weeks off and sort through this whole ordeal.”

  “I know. I really do need some time to think about it. I’m just so pissed off.”

  “I can see that and I’ll leave you to your thoughts, okay?” Dee started walking toward the den as Pam suddenly eased up.

  “Hey listen, I shouldn’t be taking my problems out on you. Please, come back. My bark is worse than my bite,” Pam managed to crack a smile. “It’s been a while since we’ve really talked. I’ve missed that.”

  Dee sat down next to her on the bed. “Are you sure?”

  Pam glanced down and lifted Dee’s hand. “It’s good to see your hand is back to normal,” she said as she eased it back down. “How are things going with you?”

  Dee’s eyes shifted away from Pam. She was surprised to see the conversation quickly turn toward her and Pam’s sudden interest in her hand. “All right, I guess.” My hand is the only thing that is back to normal.

  “Just all right?”

  Dee nodded hastily. She definitely didn’t want Pam to know what had happened in Miami. “Hey, all is good over this way. I think you’ve got enough of your own problems at this point. You certainly don’t need to hear mine.”

  “Hey, I guess we are both batting zeroes this week, huh?” Pam made the number with her thumb and middle finger as the phone rang. “Dee, hold on a sec. Hello?”

  “Hello. May I speak to the most irresistible, smart, and beautiful woman in the room?”

  “Hey there, Marc,” Pam said. Her eyes suddenly lit up and she managed to form a half-smile.

  “I called you at the office and was surprised to hear you were on vacation.”

  “I know. I hadn’t had the chance to tell anybody yet. It came up kind of suddenly.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. It’s nothing I can’t handle. Hey, can you call me back a little later?”

  Dee shook her head no. “We’ll talk later,” Dee whispered, as she left the room.

  “Okay, I’m back,” Pam said into the receiver.

  “Do you need to go?”

  “No, it’s okay…”

  “Listen, I really want to see you again—kind of make up for the last time.”

  “Marc, I don’t think so. I wouldn’t be very good company right now.”

  “What do you mean? You should be on top of the world, lady! You have it all!” He was referring to the partnership he thought she had gotten by now. Pam could barely speak. Her throat felt like it was filled with cotton balls.

  “Pam, are you there?”

  Pam said nothing. She wanted to, but the words would not come out. She stared into the receiver and quietly hung it up. I’m sorry.

  Cruising Altitude

  The main lobby of Vini Vidi Vici was filled with people waiting for a table in the trendy restaurant. Amanda made her way back to the bar, sauntering through the smoke and extreme noise. There he was. He was seated and handsomely dressed in a tailored, charcoal gray three-button Italian suit, which he accessorized with a light gray shirt and tie.

  Amanda’s heart seemed to stop momentarily as old feelings surfaced. What am I thinking? I’ll get what I came here for, and then I’m gone, Amanda thought defiantly.

  “Hey Amanda, over here,” Rickey said. His dark eyes penetrated the crowd as he walked toward her. The smell of his cologne was making Amanda weak. No matter how hard she tried to deny it, Rickey still looked good, even after all these years.

  “Hi, Rickey.” Her tone was cool as she suddenly remembered his arrogance at the airport.

  “Wow! Look at you,” he said hoping to warm the chill between them. She looked as stiff as the Mona Lisa. He touched her. “You look gorgeous, lady. I didn’t realize your hair was so long.”

  How could you? You haven’t seen me in seventeen years, Rickey. “Thank you.” She patted her hair awkwardly. His hair looked as if it had just been freshly cut.

  “It makes you look about five or six years younger,” he said, as he found himself unconsciously reaching out to touch it. He loved women whose hairstyles looked natural. No extensions, no weaves.

  Uncomfortable with his touch, Amanda pulled back slightly. “So, when will our table be ready?”

  Rickey felt her uneasiness and pulled his hand back. “The waitress said in about ten more minutes. Do you want a drink?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “Hmmmm…let me see, you look like an Apple Martini or Cosmopolitan Woman.” He eyed her up and down as he signaled to the bartender to take their drink orders.

  Amanda didn’t know why, but she felt herself blushing. “Either will be fine,” she said. She found it oddly coincidental that he knew her favorite drinks. Did Tracey tell him that, too?

  “Is that a smile I see seeping out of those cheeks, Ms. Shipman?”

  Her smile quickly faded. “Rickey, don’t get carried away. I’m only here for Tracey.”

  “As am I,” he said, taking the drinks from the bartender. He tapped his glass with hers. “To Tracey!”

  “Sir, your table is ready,” the waitress interjected.

  Thank goodness, Amanda thought. I don’t know how much longer I can stand this.

  Rickey pulled Amanda’s chair out, holding her drink while she took off her coat. “Here let me take that for you,” he said, taking a quick look at her behind.

  “Thank you.”

  Rickey nodded and gave Amanda a quick once-over. She had gotten a lot heavier since high school, but she was still a looker, and to him, she had the finest behind this side of Georgia. Amanda still had the same sweet personality that had made her so popular in high school even though she was hanging onto her poker face.

  “I’ll give you a few minutes to look over the menu and then I’ll be right back,” the waitress said.

  “I already know what I want,” Amanda said, quickly glancing over the menu and handing it back to her. “Let me get the salmon with a side salad.”

  “Salmone with an Insalta Verde. Good choice.” The waitress scribbled down her order then turned to Rickey. “And you, sir?”

  Rickey looked over the menu. “I’ll have the veal cutlet and a garden salad, also.”

  “Great! Scallopine Al Funghi and Insalta Verde. I’ll be back shortly with your dinner.”

  Amanda waited until the waitress left the table before she spoke. “Okay, Rickey, let’s skip the formalities, all right? You got me here to talk about my daughter, so let’s do that.”

  “You mean our daughter, don’t you?”

  Amanda shook her head somberly. “I said what I meant. Now, you tell me what is going on with you.”

  “Well, how about you start first.”

  “Me?”

  “Why not you?”

  Amanda could feel her tears waiting to fall. “Look, I’m not the one who wanted to meet after all of these years. You did! And as far as I’m concerned, you have been an MIA father since the day my child was born.”

  “And that’s how you wanted it,” Rickey flared. It took all of his strength to keep from raising his voice.

  “Just stop it, Rickey.” She caught herself before she lost control, just as another couple looked over at them. She immediately lowered her voice. “You never once answered any of my letters.”

  “All right, here we go again with that.”

  “Yes, here we go again,” Amanda s
aid, annoyed.

  “Look, Amanda, the first time I had even seen your letters was when Tracey showed them to me.” Rickey paused. “Damn it…” he mumbled under his breath.

  “Tracey, what?”

  Rickey looked like a little boy who had accidentally let out the big family secret. “Nothing.”

  “No. Please repeat what you just said.”

  The waitress came back with their food and set it down on the table. “Would either of you care for some freshly ground pepper?”

  “No!” they both shouted at the same time. The waitress looked as if she might cry.

  “Listen, we’re sorry.” Rickey’s voice was sincere.

  “He’s right. We didn’t mean to yell at you, really. Please accept our apologies,” Amanda added.

  “We’ll let you know if we need anything else,” Rickey chimed in. The waitress nodded and briskly walked away.

  Rickey’s voice grew calmer. “Listen, I wasn’t supposed to say anything about it, but Tracey showed me some letters you had written and for some reason, I never got ‘em.”

  Amanda clenched her teeth. “But how did she know where I kept them?”

  “She said she happened to find them one day when she was cleaning out your closet.”

  Amanda nibbled on her salad, thinking back to when Tracey had last helped her with her closet. That was three months ago. Right when Tracey started acting distant.

  “Amanda, I swear to you I never got those letters.”

  “Well, they were all returned unopened and in an envelope. Dummy me just kept sending and sending again, hoping you would open just one that had Tracey’s picture in it. Just one!” she said, angrily stabbing her fish and shoving a tiny piece in her mouth.

  “Amanda, this is mind-boggling. I never got them. I swear. And it’s not like I didn’t try to reach you either.”

  “Rickey, stop it.” She firmly placed the fork down on the side of her plate, restraining herself from stabbing him with it. “The only thing I’ve ever received from you is a transfer of funds from your account to mine for child support.”

  Rickey thought about what Amanda was saying. When Amanda had gotten pregnant, he was busy playing for Notre Dame. And with the NFL scouting him big time, his mother decided that she would be the one to handle his personal affairs. She had been the one to set up the bank account and wire the money. He didn’t have time to do anything except play football. She opened his mail and—

 

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