"We are. It worked out well last year. Made a decent profit. I suppose if you worked out the profit over all the hours of labor we'd make more money as migrant workers, though," she laughed.
"I want to do that this year."
Sarah looked at her and smiled. "That'd be a great idea, Katie. What are you thinking about growing?"
She shrugged. "No idea. I'm still trying to talk Tom into it."
"Forget Tom," Sarah said with a smile. "Just do it."
"We'll see. So, do you have that family tree?"
"Right there." She pointed to a box in the corner. "Ian didn't know exactly what I wanted so he brought down the whole darn box."
Tom stood with a patient, plastic smile, waiting on the young couple's final decision. They were this close to buying the minivan their growing family needed. And Tom needed the commission. Desperately. They shifted from foot to foot, whispered to each other and stared at the van with scrutiny. He watched their body language intently. They couldn't afford it, that much he knew. But with the woman's stomach sticking out to next week, he could tell the young father really wanted to bring their newborn home in a new minivan. Tom started talking about safety features and gas mileage, zoning in on him to make the final deal.
Just as the young man was opening his mouth, Tom assumed to say yes, he was paged overhead. He ignored it.
"Think we can get a good interest rate?"
"Well, you're young and don't have a lot of credit, but our finance team will get you the best interest rate we can, don't worry about that."
The young man nodded slowly. The overhead pager yelled for Tom again. Groaning internally, he excused himself, asked the couple to stay right where they were and jogged across the lot.
Out of breath, he glared at the receptionist. "What's so damn important?"
"You got a call on line three."
He rolled his eyes and picked up the receiver, only to find the line dead. "There's no call on line three."
The receptionist shrugged. "Must've gotten tired of being on hold."
"Who was it?"
"Some woman. Didn't give her name."
He slammed the phone down and turned back to the sale he was just about to make.
"Tom, can I see you in my office?"
"I'm right in the middle of something," he said, tossing an impatient look at his father.
"It'll only take a minute."
Tom craned his neck. He could see the couple still walking around the van, hand in hand.
"Alright, but be fast Dad. I've got a live one out there."
He hurried in and sat down hard. His father took his time, closing the door so slowly it drove Tom mad.
"Well, I just got word that Henry is leaving."
The general manager. His father's right hand man. Tom sat up straighter.
"Before I announce who I've chosen to replace him, I wanted to talk to you."
Tom smiled. Just the break he'd been waiting for. No more wheeling and dealing, no more late nights and wasted hours on sales that didn't work out. A little bit of authority and respect. Hell, as general manager, no more hard work, period.
"I've chosen Stanley to replace him, Tom."
The words slapped Tom in the face. "Stanley."
"Yes."
"But, I'm your son. I'm supporting your grandchild. I need it more."
"What you need to do, Tom, is grow up."
"Grow up? What the hell? I work my ass off out there."
"You work hard because you have to, Tom. The minute you don't have to, you won't. That much I know about you. I need someone who is willing to give a hundred and ten percent."
Tom looked around in frustration with his mouth hanging open. "I don't believe this. I need the raise, Dad. I'm trying to renovate that old place of ours."
"Speaking of which, here's the bill for the labor on the new water heater." He tossed a piece of paper across his desk. The look on Tom's face told his father exactly what he was thinking. "You didn't expect me to pay for it and that be it? Did you, Tom? You have to pay your way in this world. Now, the guy I hired is willing to wait for payments as you can make them. But you're going to have to take it up with him."
"I thought you paid him."
"I paid for the hot water heater. I can take that out of your pay in bits. But you owe him for the labor."
Tom threw his hands up in the air. "Great. I should've never had the damn thing fixed. Just taken cold showers and saved the money."
"Cold showers might help you some, Son."
"What's that supposed to mean?" He glared at his father.
"You know what it means." He began arranging files on his desk, shuffling papers and avoiding Tom's eyes. Tom stood up and threw his chair back. Slamming the door on his way out, he remembered the young couple and broke into a jog again.
He made it out to the minivan just in time to see their tail lights as they pulled away from the lot.
"Great." He scowled. Kicking pebbles like a child, he stomped back to the office and poured a cup of coffee. He sat down in a room that the salesmen shared for working out deals and hammering out details and closed the door. People looked in as they passed. Some with pity, most with smirks. He hated every one of them.
After wasting a good hour in the room, another salesman knocked on the door with a file in his hand.
"Hey, can I use this room?" Tom could see an older couple standing behind him.
He didn't answer, just stood and left. The young puppy of a salesman laughed as he closed the door. "You guys are going to love these cars."
These cars? As in more than one?
"Looks like Mike gets the bonus brownie today," the receptionist said from behind. "Scored two sales in one sitting. The old couple are buying matching cars."
Tom scowled back at the room. "Good for him."
"Oh, and there's someone here to see you." Pointing toward the car lot, Tom saw a young woman waiting with tightly crossed arms. "I think she said her name was Janis, or something," she said as he walked away.
"What are you doing here?" he asked quietly.
"I had no other way to get ahold of you."
"I told you I'd be by on Friday night." He touched her arm, wanting but not daring to hug her. His father could see this corner of the lot from his office.
"It couldn't wait until Friday. Can we go somewhere?"
Tom looked around nervously. "Yeah, my car is over here."
He quickly stuffed her in the passenger seat and she pulled the seat belt over her ample chest. He glanced at her cleavage and over her small waist as he sped off.
They found a deserted dead end road and he turned to her with a smile. "Couldn't wait to see me again, huh?" He leaned in to kiss her and she brushed him away impatiently.
"I'm in trouble, Tom."
"What do you mean? What kind of trouble?"
She gave him a long, sobering glance.
"Oh, shit. That kind of trouble." He put his hand on his forehead and sank down into the seat. "What happened?"
"Obviously, we weren't careful enough."
"Who else knows?"
"Nobody. Just you."
There was a long tense silence.
"I thought about getting an abortion."
"How much is that going to cost?"
She shrugged.
"I don't suppose you could keep it and say it's his?"
"My husband is sterile. You know that, Tom." He did, but had forgotten. How convenient it would have been to let him assume the burden.
"I'll get you the money then."
"What if I don't want an abortion?"
"You said you had thought about it."
"Thinking about it and wanting to do it are two different things."
"I don't have time for games, Janis."
She leaned over and put her hand on his thigh. "Let's keep it."
"Let's? Are you forgetting the fact that we are both married? To other people?"
"Let's leave. You know you don't l
ove Katie. End it now before it drags on and you end up having even more kids with her."
He set his jaw and rolled the idea around in his head.
"C'mon, Tom. Let's just run away. I have some money saved that'll get us by until we can get set up somewhere new."
His eyebrows rose with interest. "How much money?"
"About five thousand. Been saving it here and there over the last couple years."
He visibly sank down. "Five grand won't get us far."
"We'll get by, Tom."
"I'd end up paying child support for Jacob. That would bankrupt us."
She laughed. "Pay her child support with my alimony. We'll break even at worst. I'll squeeze every last dime out of my old man."
He looked at her with a faint smile. They were made for each other, after all. They were miserable, grifting, scheming, cheating bastards and they loved it. And she was beautiful. Not just beautiful, but hot. With long blonde hair and full pouty lips, she had held his affections longer than any other woman. He was close to saying yes, close to leaving everything behind, when he remembered one important detail.
"I can't leave."
"Why not?"
"I have to stay married to Katie."
"No, you don't Tom. You don't love her. It's not fair that you cheat yourself out of a happy life!" She would have stamped her foot, if she could have.
"It's in my dad's will. He never wanted me to marry Katie. Nobody did. Seemed like the whole damn town was against us and that's the only reason we did it. To defy them all. My father decided to make a stipulation in his will that if I were to divorce, I would get one dollar in inheritance. One measly dollar. He did it just to spite me, the miserable old bastard."
"You never told me that." She narrowed her eyes at him. "So all this time with me, you knew you could never leave her."
She pounded on his shoulder with her fist.
"You bastard!"
"Janis, come on. If Katie leaves me, then I won't be ostracized from my father's will. But she has to be the one to do it. And until then, we can still be together; we just have to keep it quiet."
"But I love you," she said on the verge of tears. "And I'm tired of sneaking around. I'm tired of lying and looking over my shoulder."
He rolled his eyes. "We've been seeing each other for four months."
"What am I supposed to do? If he finds out I'm pregnant then he'll leave and take everything. I'll be left penniless."
"I'll get you the money for the abortion." He took her hand and kissed it. "Just go get it done and everything will be fine. Nobody will know and we'll be more careful next time."
She sniffled, stifling tears that Tom wasn't sure were real or simply to gain pity. She should know he was smarter than to fall for that.
Mentally, he was already looking for a way out. Tom didn't like anything that wasn't easy and fun. And this was getting very complicated.
Chapter 7
Katie pulled the rolled up genealogy chart from the box. Clearing a floral arrangement and crystal salt and pepper shakers from the center of the table, she carefully unrolled it and weighted down each corner. Sarah peeked over her shoulder.
"Why so interested in family history all of a sudden?" she asked.
"I found something in the fireplace. A journal that belonged to someone named Samantha Emery back in the early 1900's."
"Ooh, interesting."
Katie pulled the journal from her purse and handed it to Sarah before returning to the chart. The handwriting was old and fading in spots.
"Who started this chart?"
"Daddy's Grandma, I think. Daddy added Mama and us in later."
She squinted, starting with her father's name and working her way up. “Daddy had three brothers...but that would be too soon. Grandpa had six siblings...Great Grandpa had eleven...Great-Great-Grandpa...was an only child? Wow. How'd they pull that off?"
"One of those miracle babies that weren’t supposed to be able to happen. Good thing it did, or the family tree would have stumped right there."
Katie smiled. "So, I'm guessing that Samantha Emery was about my age. They were trying to have kids but were unsuccessful."
"Back then, the husband would be older than the wife. Maybe even in his thirties," Sarah interrupted.
"The first journal entry is for 1905, so if I subtract thirty years from that, leads me to..." She stopped, cocked her head to the side and then looked closer. "Richard Emery Sr. was born in 1830, with...yikes...sixteen children." She scanned each of the names.
"Why is that one blotted out?"
"Huh?" Katie looked at the end of the list. Sure enough, there were sixteen spots but only fifteen were readable. As if someone had smudged the last entry with water.
"Looks like something scandalous happened." Sarah grinned. "A little family mystery to figure out."
Katie managed to get in the door with the baby, the journal, the family tree and a bag of groceries she had picked up on the way home. She was still smiling; visits with her sister always cheered her up. But her mind was still on Samantha and Richard Emery and why their names were smudged off of the family tree. The only thing to do was dive into the journal again and learn everything she could about them.
The phone rang, loud and tinny, and it made her jump.
"Hey, Sarah," she answered automatically.
"Can I speak to Mr. Thomas Johnson please?"
"He's not here right now. Can I take a message?"
"Is this his wife?"
"It is."
"This is Mr. Jenkins from Cedar Hollow Savings and Loan. I'm calling about a loan you took out recently."
"A loan I took out? I haven't taken out any loans."
"Well, the loan you both took out last November. It's come to my attention that you haven't made a loan payment in a few months. I'm calling to see when you'll be in to bring the loan current."
"I'm sorry, I don't understand. I haven't taken out a loan and Tom hasn't said anything about taking one out either."
"Well, I'm looking at your signatures right here. It's in the notes that you were sick with the flu and your husband took the paperwork home for you to sign."
Her face flushed with anger and frustration.
"I'm sorry, I didn't sign any loan paperwork. Are you sure there isn't some kind of mix up?"
"No, I'm quite sure."
"I'm going to have to talk to my husband and figure out what's going on."
"Can you have him call me no later than the close of business tomorrow?"
"Yes."
"Thank you, Mrs. Johnson."
She hung up and spun around, wishing she had something to throw. That son of a bitch, she thought with loathing. Why did he take out a loan, forging my signature and what the hell did he spend the money on? Because she certainly hadn't seen any of it. He hadn't even gotten her anything for Christmas, claiming poor sales at the dealership.
She was shaking with anger and put the tea kettle on. She stared at it with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, willing it to boil faster.
After laying Jacob down for a nap, she sat at the kitchen table with her tea and the journal.
February 28th, 1905
I received a letter yesterday, giving greater detail to my husband's illness. Apparently he began suffering from fatigue and body aches, followed by a fever and skin ulcerations in random, sensitive places across his body. He and his brother, Samuel, stopped in a small town and found lodging. Samuel went to fetch the local doctor immediately. He brought the fever down with ice and dressed the ulcerations as best he could. Samuel assures me that the sores are not visible when covered with basic clothing. The doctor informed him that Richard appears to be suffering from some sort of flu, though it does not seem to be contagious. Samuel is keeping a close eye on his own symptoms, as of yet he has none, and assures me that Richard should be able to complete the journey and return home to me soon. I have a fear of smallpox, but Samuel would have mentioned that, surely. At least I can rest easie
r knowing he is in good hands and recovering comfortably. All I can do is pray for my beloved, and I will, with all my might.
Katie jumped at the knock on the door. She growled at herself, frustrated at her friable nerves. She was tired of feeling like a skittish cat.
She closed the journal and glanced out the dining room window. Seeing the tail end of Will's truck, she smiled.
Opening the door much more calmly this time, he met her with a dazzling smile of his own.
"Mrs. Johnson."
"Katie, please."
He nodded with a sheepish grin. "I just came to check on the hot water heater."
"It's fine." She stepped aside to let him in, though there was no reason for it.
"No leaks?"
"No."
"No strange banging or clanging?"
"Why on earth would a hot water heater bang and clang?"
He laughed. "It wouldn't. Actually, checking on the hot water heater was just an excuse. I had another reason for coming over here today."
"Oh?" she asked weakly. His smile made her absolutely dizzy. "What would that be?" she asked, her voice several octaves too high.
"Well, I came to ask you if you might want a puppy."
"A...puppy?" She blinked and shook her head slightly.
"My dog had a litter a couple months ago and they need homes. I thought you might want one for your son. And for home protection. Cheaper than an alarm system." He flashed another smile.
"That was very thoughtful, Will."
"I have them in the back of the truck if you want to take a look?"
"Sure." She slipped her shoes on and followed him, trying desperately to look anywhere but at the wide shoulders in front of her.
He flipped the lid on a wooden box and it exploded in yips and yowls, small balls of fur bouncing all over each other.
"I found homes for most of them. I was out delivering them today when I thought about you."
She bit her lip. He thought about you, her mind squealed. For a puppy, stupid. Only for a puppy. Her rational side fired back.
Leaning over, she spotted one in the back of the box, calmer and curled up, watching the mayhem the other puppies caused.
Reclaiming Katie Page 4