All Roads Lead Home
Copyright © 2015 Mary A. Wasowski
Cover Design by RE Creatives
Editing by Joe Marron
Formatting by JT Formatting
All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, bands, and/or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
License Notes
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Sometimes you will never know the true value of a moment until it becomes a memory.
Title Page
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Epilogue
A Note from the Author
Coming in 2016
Other Books by Mary A. Wasowski
About the Author
I’M A RUNNER. Not an athlete who competes in races. Not one who does it for exercise or enjoyment. No, I’m the worst kind of runner, you know the type. The kind that fled her life in the wake of a family tragedy, an unbearable loss that can weigh you down. What am I saying? It still does. It’s a kind of loss that binds suffocating chains around your heart. Feelings cut off and numbness set in, all of which left me empty.
I chose to love my family from a distance. I chose to shut down and compartmentalize my feelings. I wrapped them up in a pretty box tied with a bow on it. I chose selfishly, and my grief paved the way to my new life. I never considered what my leaving did to my family and friends, who all remained behind when I ran and never looked back.
I said I would move forward and carry on with my life. Be happy. Marry the man of my dreams. Have babies and become a mom. Just move forward. Not carry the pain of losing the one person who knew me best and I loved the most. I promised I wouldn’t live in the past and struggle to change the things that can never be changed.
I lied.
I broke my promise to him.
Yes, I promised you all of those things, but you lied too. You promised to fight and never give up. You were getting better. I felt it when I looked into your eyes. You had a future waiting for you beyond those cold, sterile hospital doors. What did you know that I didn’t? You always protected me from anything that would bring me sadness. You knew this would break me, so you made me promise to not fall apart like a jig-saw puzzle. Shattered pieces of me would never heal, never allowing me to be whole again. I would be left alone without you.
When I shared my feelings with you, you laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. I smacked you on your arm and told you to stop making jokes, but you continued to laugh. In the end, I gave up and joined in. I could never stay angry with you, not even for five minutes. We were always connected, you told me this often. It was a sibling thing.
You said no matter what happens, I would always have mama and daddy, Wendy, and of course your best friends, Shane and Jagger. They were like brothers to me, but then our circle of friendship changed when Jagger and I found love. He was your best friend and my first love. My only love…always.
I never really knew if in fact that was true, because I ran. I ran across the country and convinced myself I was doing the right thing for my future. I left broken hearts in my wake. I was consumed in my own loss that I never cared to look beyond my own pain. I channeled it and used it for strength. I focused on graduating from law school and being the best at what I worked so hard to accomplish. I couldn’t fight for something that was beyond my control, like cancer…your cancer.
It was a Monday. The sun had not risen on the new day yet. I remember having a restless sleep the night before, haunted by your image over and over again. Your handsome face was dancing around in my dreams. I wanted to reach out and touch you, but yet, you were so far away. As I laid asleep to hold onto you, I could feel your spirit leaving the physical world and preparing for what’s next to come. I could hear your voice so vividly clear, but also felt your pain. Not a physical pain, but more of an emotional one. Something that no one could ever be prepared for.
I awoke and jolted out of my sleep with the piercing sound of my phone ringing. Instantaneously, my heart began to pound. I knew what I was about to be told and who was on the other end of the line.
This was my Monday, five years ago. To most it meant the beginning of a new work week. A new day. When the life I was so certain of having just died along with you.
I hate this day. It is the one day I allow myself to feel your loss. As I clutched your picture to my chest, my tears broke through the barriers I had so carefully put in place. They simply fell, and I did nothing to stop them. I was alone and lost in the memories of you. I felt the walls closing in around me and I needed to get out of here.
I’m a runner.
The worst kind.
The type that says…I’ll see you soon, I’ll call you later, but really only uses those lines to be polite.
I’m sorry I didn’t keep my promise to you.
I’m sorry I ran, but you lied too.
You left me.
“WHAT ARE YOU doing here this early on a Monday?” my assistant shrilled at me as I lifted my head up from the mountain of legal briefs I was reading through.
“The last time I checked, this was my office. You see the name plate on the door?” I replied sarcastically and my tone was sounding borderline bitch.
I took a breath before speaking again to her, “Good morning, Roxy.”
She half smiled back at me. Roxy, being the amazing assistant she was, read my mood before another word was spoken.
“The usual, Ms. Fairchild? No calls or visitors until you say otherwise?”
“Yes, I just need a few hours to myself. Court is at nine thirty. If al
l goes according to plan, we will be celebrating by lunch time.”
I knew this case was already won. I worked my legal assets off for months and dazzled the senior partners. They all knew the hours I clocked for this trial, and so did I. There was no way I wasn’t going to reap the benefits from all of my hard work.
“Understood, boss. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Roxy…” I called out.
“Yes, Ms. Fairchild.”
“I’m sorry. I would love a cup of coffee…and please call me Tenley.”
She nodded to at least two of my requests, but I wasn’t sure if she would be addressing me by first name anytime soon. She was openly chastised in front of many lawyers by one of the senior partners a few months back. When I made partner, my title and stature changed here at the firm. I was friendly with most of the staff, but when I received my own personal assistant, I thought I could still maintain the same easygoing pace I always had. The higher ups frowned upon that and wanted me to behave like them. Cut and dry, black and white, no color in between. My assistant works for me, not the other way around.
I was still trying to get used to having her at my beck and call. Roxy was such a free spirit rocker chick. She had an ultra-modern haircut with purple highlights. She followed the rules at the office. Always impeccably dressed, but she wasn’t budging on her hair color. I stood firm as well, and Mr. Steele finally conceded.
I think his daughter Zoey had a hand in that. She was another larger than life person and my first friend here in New York. A natural rebel, but the apple of her daddy’s eye. Another free spirit who made no apologies on who she was, and another who liked a little sparkle to her look… I don’t know what it was, but when comparing Zoey to Roxy, I suddenly felt a shiver run up my spine. It felt like I was describing my relationship with my daddy, or at least how it used to be.
“Excuse me, Ms. Fairchild.” The sound of the intercom brought me out of my deep thoughts, and I was thankful for that. I had no business revisiting a past hurt that would never be undone.
“What is it, Roxy?”
“Your mother is on line three, again. She insists on speaking with you. Shall I take another message?”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll speak with her. Please put her through.”
I counted to myself…1, 2, 3, 4, 5…Needing to get myself in check before speaking with her. The last thing I wanted was to forget my manners when it comes to my mother.
“Hello, mama.” My voice was quiet and my accent always picked the right time to return anytime I would speak with her.
“Hello, daughter. Thank you for taking my call. How are you today?” she seemed like she genuinely wants to know.
“I’m fine, mama. How are you?”
“Your father and I are okay, thank you for asking. I received the contracts you sent over for the new horses we are about to acquire, thank you for that. You always do the best work, better than any other lawyer your daddy keeps on retainer.”
“Mama, I’m due in court soon. Can I call you later?”
“That would be fine if I knew you would, but we know something will come up and you won’t call. I know you’re busy, Tenley, and you have no room for us in your life, but I miss you. Your daddy misses you, and I need you too. Please come home to us. Hasn’t it been long enough? Our relationship with you consists of business dealings and these less than five minute phone calls. A Christmas package delivered every year right to our door step. A card containing pleasantries, but no personal attachment to the words written so eloquently on the paper. I love you, Tenley. I miss my daughter.”
I tried my best to put her at ease. “Mama, that’s not true. Please don’t talk this way. You know my work takes up all of my time, and I know more than anyone how long it’s been since I’ve been home. You are my mother, of course I want to talk to you, but I’m just busy now. I promise to call you later, I promise.”
I tried with my whole heart to believe what I was desperately trying to convince my mother to believe, and then she hit me where it would hurt me the most. “He loved you so much, baby girl. I hope you find a reason to smile today. I love you.”
The line clicked off. My tears fell, and I was left with memories of him. Dammit! Not today. I’m about to hear the biggest verdict of my legal career, and my mother picks this time to throw the past in my face. Why? They have their life in Wyoming. I have mine here in New York. I don’t want to hurt her. I never wanted this distance and feeling of loss between us, but it happened anyway.
“Roxy...” I call out to my assistant.
“Yes, Ms. Fairchild.”
“Please come into my office.”
She entered and took a seat in front of my desk, waiting for me to fire off my list of tasks for her to complete.
“Roxy, you are my right hand. The one person I depend on to keep me in check. I’m a very busy woman. I work fourteen hour work days, sometimes more. My entire life is work, which leaves little room for anything else. In here, I need one thing that is personal. For the last time, please address me as Tenley. If anyone has a problem with how I ask you to address me, they know where I am and can take their trivial grievances with me. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Ms.…I mean Tenley.”
I almost smiled at her slip of the tongue. Roxy was not a confrontational person, more of a people pleaser.
“Now, I need you to take care of something for me, a personal request.” I enunciated very clearly to my assistant. “Please send two dozen yellow sunflowers to my mother. Address the card as follows: ‘You asked me to find a reason to smile today. I’m not sure I can do that. So I’m sending you our favorite flower in hopes they bring you some happiness behind the sadness we are all feeling today. Love, Tenley,’ Please do this at once and then phone my driver. I need to get down to the courthouse.” I once again was curt with Roxy. She looked at me with sadness in her eyes, no doubt after what I told her to say in my card. My mother said I never put feelings behind my words, well hopefully she would believe this one. I shut down because it’s what this day represented. Usually I didn’t mind having my life controlled by my day planner. If only Roxy had a magic wand to make me forget what today really meant.
Today was not just any busy work day, it represented the anniversary of losing my brother. Five long years without him. Five years trying to forget the life I loved and the people who loved me back. I left them. Fled like a fugitive on the run. I couldn’t stay even to grieve with them, not when everything reminded me of the loss I felt. A pain at times that subsided, but never really went away. Today was one of the days where it reared its ugly head and I just surrendered to it.
I thought if I got to work while the city still slept, I could stay busy and forget. My mother’s phone call squashed my bright idea. They grieved and moved on with their lives. I did too, but not in the way I promised I would. I can’t retreat and allow my heart to hurt. I was stronger than that, and I had a case to win.
By the time I arrived at the courthouse, my take no prisoner attitude was back. I worked incredibly hard, and now it was time to hear the fruits of my labor. As a lawyer, I modeled myself after the fictional character Olivia Pope, gladiator lawyer. To fight tirelessly for her clients, go up against the toughest challengers, and beat their asses. To simply win and always come out stronger. The one thing in my life that I had complete control over was my career. I did it extraordinarily well, and it came before anything else in my life. It was truly all I had. I fight for my clients and I never give up. I win for them.
“Well done! Well done, indeed. You have done it again, Miss Fairchild.” A glass of champagne was being raised up in my honor. I was being toasted by Raymond Steele, founder of Steele and Copeland law firm, where I had just won my first case as a newly appointed partner.
I was high on an adrenaline rush, the best kind. I loved the thrill of going up against the power players in the all-boys, no girls allowed club. This was a two year case in the making. My best friend Tommy, t
he sole owner of his construction company, was being muscled to give up controlling interest in his company by, let’s just say, a more connected one. I not only exposed them for being the frauds they were, but singlehandedly took down their HUD Housing scam to cheat their way through the system. Many hardworking people who lived in those neighborhoods never saw their investments come to life because of the duplicitous acts committed by the criminals who were involved.
I knew what I could do in a court room and wasn’t fazed by the looming threat of violence against me if I didn’t stop pursuing the case. I would have envelopes stuffed with cash waiting for me in my mailbox, and when that incentive didn’t work, they upped the ante.
One night, I received an anonymous e-mail that stated: Go look outside at your car. We can get to you anytime…any place. The next time you’ll be in it.
The car detonated right in front of me. Now I was pissed, and fuck them for even trying to intimidate me.
I carried forward with my case. We won. They didn’t. They went to jail, and I was still standing, enjoying a very delicious glass of champagne. Who knew where the fight in me came from? I never questioned it, not ever.
Zoey, my best friend and Raymond’s daughter, was still whistling as I finished my very short thank you speech. Tommy hugged me hard and wanted to take me out to celebrate, but I refused him.
“Come on Tenley, please? One dinner, and you can be the dessert, where you’re lying on my bed naked—and I mean very naked—for me to worship and devour.”
For the first time today, I smiled. You see mama? I found a reason to smile, even if it’s a small one. My friend accomplished that impossible feat.
“I love you, Tommy, you know I do,” I replied. “But the answer is still no. We are friends, the best kind. Let’s leave it at that.”
At that moment, he seductively touched my arm and, because I’m still a woman, react to it by stepping back but feeling the goose bumps his touch left.
“We can be so much more if you would give us a chance,” he whispered.
All Roads Lead Home Page 1