Bobby only asked about his mother once in his life, on his first day of Kindergarten when he realized that other children did not live with their grandparents. I simply told him that she left but that was not the full truth.
My daughter Caroline began seeing a neighborhood boy when she was fifteen years old. The boy was a no good bum much like his parents. When she became pregnant at sixteen, my husband Robert and I forbid her to continue seeing the boy and even began homeschooling her. When Bobby was about six months old we thought she was finally starting to see the error of her choices and was ready to start turning her life around.
She enrolled in some night courses at the community college downtown but not more than two weeks into her first set of classes she disappeared. We weren’t sure where she went and after filing a missing person report that resulted in nothing, we settled in to raise Bobby as our own. When Bobby was three, my husband and I received a phone call from the police asking us to come down to the morgue to identify her body.
From what the police were able to tell us, she had again hooked up with the boy and ran off with him. Though we knew he was no good, she did not or could not accept that reality and it cost her dearly, the ultimate price… her life. I don’t think Robert ever forgave himself for not finding her in time and he worried for Bobby. Unlike my Caroline, you made a choice when you left your past behind and I sincerely hope you can find the strength to try for a future.
I had planned to take the name of Bobby’s father to my grave as he is famous but not for any good deeds. He was in fact the monster that society deemed him to be, and I would not want that to impact the man Bobby is. I knew early on there was no chance of Bobby becoming the man his father was, though he can be violent when provoked. He has too much of Caroline’s personality, though he looks much like his father.
I tell you this and ask that you hold on to this knowledge in case it should ever be needed. However, if you ever find it is needed then I ask that you tell him first before using it. I pray daily that he never has to know and I trust that you will ensure he doesn’t unless absolutely necessary. When I die and he is left alone, I hope that having Lilly will be enough to keep him from questioning the past… but if not I ask that you do all in your power to keep him from ever knowing.
My Sincerest Thanks,
Edna Jackson
It somehow seemed unfair of Edna not to tell Bobby the truth about his mother… and father. From what she had garnered from Lilly, he was under the impression his mother was still alive and living somewhere else and no one knew who his father was.
Beneath the letter was a stack of newspaper clippings that included a photo of Bobby’s mother and an article on a man charged in the case. Further down in the stack which appeared to be in chronological order was an article about the execution of the man. He had been charged with multiple murders… besides the murder of Bobby’s mother.
Edna’s opinion on the matter suddenly made perfect sense. If Bobby had no idea that his mother had died… been killed… he wouldn’t focus on finding out how she died. She respected the old woman for not wanting to taint Bobby with a sometimes common belief of ‘like father, like son’ and hoped she too would never have to approach it with him.
Bobby Jackson seemed like verifiable proof that nurture won over nature…at least in his case. Chuck being as well rounded, artistic and full of life as he was argued it was nature over nurture.
At the bottom of the pile were copies of several documents including a life insurance policy and the deed to her house, along with another handwritten note stating Bobby was to get everything except for her collection of music which was to go to Gretchen.
Information on how and where she was to be buried was also included in the documents. The woman had planned everything down to the last detail. She called her personal secretary and asked her to send her a template of a will that she could use to type up this one for Edna.
She would keep Edna’s secrets… that was part of what she was paid for… keeping secrets for clients. After gathering up the documents, she placed them back in the manila folder and put it in her locked briefcase. Then she pulled out the file on the two foster girls. After thumbing through the file, she decided that in light of her more recent relationship with Dickie, she should make Carmen James aware.
Digging out her cell phone she dialed the case worker’s number and waited. When the she received Carmen’s voice mail which indicated she was out to lunch, Becca glanced at the clock and was shocked that it was lunch time already. After leaving a message she went in search of Dickie.
She could hear sound coming from his one car garage. Opening the door her eyes were drawn to his strong shoulders and back that were bare and shiny with sweat. He looked to be fixing his bedroom door and was focused on his work. Leaning against the doorframe she watched him.
He looked so rugged and masculine even with his hair being too long. His jeans rode low on his hips making him appear even taller than he was… and bigger.
“See anything you like?” he asked with a grin. Busted.
“Hungry?” she asked in reply.
“Yes, ma’am, I am. Are you going to do the cooking?” he asked.
Laughing she said, “I can make a lunchmeat sandwich. I may not have your culinary skills but I haven’t starved to death yet.”
He went and rinsed off in the shower while she was making the sandwiches. Sitting down at the table he grinned and said, “How about a night ride later?”
“You will not get me on the back of your motorcycle,” she said.
“Oh I will and you’ll love it. Remember you said you didn’t want to have your way with me but you were lying. I think you’re lying about wanting a ride on the back of my motorcycle too,” he said with a grin.
“You can think whatever you want to. Just don’t set yourself up for disappointment when it doesn’t happen,” she said with a grin of her own.
When lunch was finished she cleaned up so he could get back to finishing the bedroom door when her cell phone rang.
“Hi, this is Carmen James returning your call.”
“Hi, Carmen, I looked through the file on the two foster girls and, as adorable as they are, I can’t commit to taking on this case without knowing the name of the potential foster dad,” she said.
“Richard Long,” Carmen said as though Becca should already know.
Of course. She had known it was coming but now that it was confirmed, there was no hiding her relationship with Dickie.
“I was afraid you were going to say that,” she sighed. “I feel that I need to make you aware that I have been seeing Di…Richard Long.”
“So?” Carmen said.
“I just wanted you to be aware so that it doesn’t come back to bite me somehow… conflict of interest,” she said.
“No, it just means that if you will be staying overnight with him or even living with him, it is best if you become a licensed foster parent as well. That is also why Mr. McMurray will need to become a licensed foster parent… he lives with Dana Atkinson,” Carmen said.
“I am only here temporarily… I’ll be returning to New York soon,” she said. She could swear her heart slowed down at the thought of not seeing him every day.
“Well why don’t you, Mr. Long, and Mr. McMurray join us next Friday for an orientation and we can go from there. Then if they are interested in the program we can see about setting up foster training and scheduling a home inspection and study,” Carmen suggested.
“I can at least go to the orientation with them and ensure they understand the requirements,” she said. “I am meeting with both Dana and Tommy this week to talk about what we discussed. I would say for now go ahead and put our names down for the orientation and if for some reason that changes I will let you know.”
“That sounds great, Becca, and I have a few things together regarding your case for Charles Reynolds. Did you want me to drop it over to you or will you be in the area that you could stop and pick it up?�
� Carmen asked.
“If you happen to be in the neighborhood today you could run them by. If not, I will pick them up tomorrow sometime,” she replied.
After hanging up with Carmen she called Daniel at the art gallery to give him Chuck’s counter offer. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the young man’s excitement about marrying Meredith as she waited for the receptionist to connect her through to him.
“Daniel, this is Becca Waters,” she said when he finally answered. “Listen, Chuck Reynolds gave me the proposal you sent to him and asked me to call and discuss the sale with you.”
“I’m glad, as we have an offer on another painting that we just mailed to him today but since I’ve got you on the line…” Daniel said. “So how does he feel about the price on the proposal for the first one?”
“Well actually that is why I am calling…” she started. “Chuck and Meredith are engaged now and he is looking to purchase a home with her and would like to pay cash. He is willing to offer your client another painting of their choice out of the works you have there or, if there isn’t one they prefer, he is willing to commission something for them that is personal. He would simply need a photograph or video of the subject.”
“Let me make a phone call and I will call you back. The other sale is for around the same price, but my concern there is that the painting is garnering a huge response from everyone who sees it. Sometimes hanging onto a piece like that not only makes the painting itself more valuable but also other works by the same artist,” he said. “I would counsel him not to sell that one.”
“What is the painting of?” she asked in interest at the excitement she heard in the man’s voice.
“It’s breathtaking really…” he said. “I would venture to guess it is Meredith.”
“What?” she nearly shouted.
Silence ensued for several moments until he said, “The painting shows her sitting in a claw foot bathtub with a sheer curtain surrounding it, partially blocking her from view. It doesn’t show her full face but having met her and seeing the two of them together… it has to be her. It only shows her shoulders, an arm and the back of her hair, yet it is by far one of the more intimate paintings I’ve ever seen.”
Shit! How did this happen? Carla. Carla had boxed up the paintings from Chuck’s apartment and must have accidentally mixed in one of his personal paintings by mistake. He was very specific about what art he would share with others and those things he considered personal.
“I’m going to have to call you back,” she said.
“Ok…is everything alright?” Daniel asked.
“I think you have a painting you weren’t supposed to get… and I didn’t force him to read the list of them when I should have,” she said. Double Shit! She didn’t make mistakes like this. Ever. Yet she had let him skim over the list of the paintings and the proposed names for each one and then sign it. He was going to be mad at her and with good reason.
“Ok, well I would recommend that if he has any others like this one he might reconsider and allow me to showcase them,” he said.
“I’ll call you back,” she replied and hung up.
Then glancing at the phone she dialed Carla’s number and when the call was answered she said, “Are you all at home right now?”
“Becca?” Carla said. “Yes, we are here, is everything ok? You sound upset.”
“Are Chuck and Meredith there with you now?” she asked.
“Meredith is here but Chuck is still at the shop. What’s going on?” Carla asked.
“The paintings… the paintings you sent to New York, did you look through them before you shipped them?” she asked.
“Actually, I didn’t. In fact I didn’t ship them, I asked my father to stop by his apartment and box up the paintings in the closet,” Carla replied.
“Can you call your father and ask him if he looked at the paintings before he shipped them? I’ll get Dickie to run me over to your house if you are going to be there for a little bit,” she said.
“Yes, we will be here,” Carla replied.
After hanging up with Carla, she went and found Dickie where he was ensuring that the bedroom door was rehung correctly.
“I need to drive over to the Johnson house. Something has come up and I need to speak with them in person,” she explained.
“I’d love to let you drive over there, but I let the neighbor lady use the car to get to work this morning when hers wouldn’t start and the truck is at the shop. I was going to take a look at her car this afternoon. So unless you are willing to ride on the back of my bike, I’m afraid I can’t help you,” he said with a grin.
She remembered wondering about the car this morning when they had gone for their walk but had been side tracked and forgot to ask. Now he stood there all smug, waiting for her to decide whether to take him up on his offer or call a cab. Would it be that bad to be seen on his motorcycle with him?
“I must have a death wish but okay, fine, we will take your bike,” she sighed
“I’ll be driving the bike, not you, so we should be a little bit safer,” he said with a grin.
Her cell phone buzzed with a text message from her brother. “We got him!” it read.
Chapter Eight
Becca changed into some jeans and the heavy jacket he insisted she wear and went in search of him. He had rolled his motorcycle out of the garage. The bike was simply a completion of all that he was, a mischievous and rowdy rebel with a heart of gold. It was like the one accessory that when added to an outfit completely changes the atmosphere of it.
After she managed to get the helmet on, slide onto the seat behind him, and wrap her arms around his waist she relaxed against him. She loved the feel of being wrapped around him, she loved being with him, she loved the things he said, the way he took care of everyone. Especially her.
The day was beautiful and she couldn’t help but appreciate the ride. It felt like the strong rush of wind was blowing away all of her worries and fears. She finally understood why he was the way he was. The feeling of freedom she got just from riding behind him was exhilarating.
All too soon they pulled up to the Johnson’s house. She managed to get off bike, remove the helmet and attempt to push her hair back in place before Chuck stepped out the front door.
“I bow to you man! You have managed to corrupt her in less than a week, first with all the sex, and now the bike. What’s next?” Chuck laughed.
“Chuck… I need to talk to you about your paintings,” she said, attempting to ignore his comment and the wide smile that displayed on his handsome face. He and Meredith would have beautiful children someday.
“I know. Carla called me at the shop. Let’s go in and get some tea and you can tell me whatever it is that has your panties in a knot,” Chuck said.
Once they were settled at the kitchen table with Carla and Meredith joining them, she took a deep breath and said, “The gallery is showcasing one of the paintings you did of Meredith.”
It was best to get it out in the open and go from there but the shocked look on Meredith’s face spoke volumes.
“Oh God! Which one?” she asked. “How did they get it, Chuck?”
“There were no paintings of people and especially not of Meredith in my closet, so how did one of my paintings get shipped?” Chuck asked angrily.
“I shipped it,” Judge Patterson said from the entry to the kitchen. “Carla called and asked me about it. I figured this day would come eventually so I thought I would stop by and shed some light on things.”
“What are you talking about, Grandpa?” Meredith asked.
“The painting wasn’t vulgar by any means but it is just breathtaking in its elegance and simplicity. It’s the same quality as the painting of your grandmother. That is the art that he should be showcasing… those that come from his heart and soul,” Nathan Patterson said.
“The paintings he creates while using his feelings are what will put his name in the history books. I knew it when he gave m
e the picture of your grandmother. That, Chuck, that is the reason why I’ve been so hard on you ever since you stepped foot in my courtroom. Use that God given skill to touch other people’s souls and to heal your own,” Nathan finished.
Everyone was quiet for a little while until Becca finally said, “The painting shows Meredith in a bathtub surrounded by a sheer curtain. Daniel said it doesn’t show her face, only her shoulders. Do you know which one they have?” she asked Chuck.
Chuck and Meredith looked at each other and grinned and then he said, “Oh, yea.”
“I’m truly sorry that I did not make you really read the list of paintings they would be showcasing a little more carefully. Daniel has sent a sale sheet for the painting but he told me he doesn’t think you should sell it. It is gaining so much attention, it could make the rest of your paintings more valuable as well,” Becca said.
“Daniel knows more about selling art and shit than I do so I guess we just trust his judgment. Not to mention I don’t want some rich perv having a painting of my wife. As for you screwing up… if you do it again I will personally take that mistake and stick it sideways up your ass. Isn’t that similar to what you told me when I made a mistake by having a gun?” Chuck asked with a mischievous grin.
“Fair enough, Chuck,” she laughed. “I have re-learned one of the most important rules in the legal profession… read everything at least twice.”
“I figure you’ve been distracted so it’s partially Dickie’s fault too,” he laughed. “Why don’t we go see if Tommy and Dana want to take a ride this evening?”
“I was thinking tonight might be the last time we can ride at night for a while, with the weather getting colder. What do you say, Becca?” Dickie asked with a knowing smile.
“Who will keep the girls?” Carla asked.
“Well at least maybe Tommy can sneak out for a while,” Chuck laughed.
“The boys and I could follow you over there and watch them for a bit. I know Ben and Matt like playing with Gretchen and I’d get to hold the baby,” Carla smiled.
Long Ride (Riding with Honor) Page 9