¼ cup grated Mizithra cheese*
Steam florets until tender crisp. While broccoli is steaming, heat butter on medium-high heat, stirring constantly to keep it from burning. (The longer it browns, the nuttier the flavor.) Add steamed broccoli to browned butter and toss until broccoli is well-coated. Spread buttered broccoli in a single layer onto a platter or large plate. Sprinkle with Mizithra cheese. (Breanna prefers freshly grated Parmesan cheese to Mizithra.) Serve hot.
Serves 6. (This is the perfect side dish for any pasta dish or grilled chicken.)
(Shawn would only eat these if I called them Snowy Trees or Dinosaur Food when he was little.)
*Mizithra is a dry, white cheese sold in the deli area of most grocery stores and shrink-wrapped in four 10-ounce portions. It does not melt, but has a mild, salty flavor. Add more or less to taste.
Chapter 11
Pete agreed to keep an eye out for Mrs. Wapple while Sadie “went to the store,” never mind that she had fixed her hair and makeup in record time before changing into her khaki slacks and dress boots that matched the black peacoat of Heather’s she’d borrowed from the hall closet. The website gave every impression that this was a posh event, so she did her best to dress accordingly, and she was glad to have come prepared—Pete admitted he’d packed only jeans and sweatshirts. Men never prepared for such contingencies.
Sadie kissed Pete good-bye before heading to the minivan. She held a scarf over her head, determined to not let the wind get the better of her hair reparations. She arrived at Forest Hills station and boarded the train almost immediately. Her companions were not singing Irish drinking songs, unfortunately, but there was a group that looked like a four-generation family—a great-grandmother in her seventies, Sadie guessed, a grandmother, a mother, and a four-year-old girl sitting on her grandmother’s lap. Their features were so similar Sadie couldn’t help but think what a great portrait it would make. She wondered if the matriarch had been born and raised here, only to set a precedent for all these girls coming of age in Bean Town.
The ride was about ten minutes; Sadie doubted she’d even be on the turnpike by now if she’d chosen to drive. She poured out of the doors with her fellow patrons and followed the signs through the Dartmouth tunnel to the Copley Place Mall. At that point she consulted one of the mall maps to find her way to the Marriott and only stopped twice—once to drool over shoes at a high-end store she had no business entering.
Eventually she found herself in the sleekly designed main lobby of the hotel, and only then did her nerves begin setting in. Exactly how was this little meeting she was so intent on having going to pan out?
She inhaled deeply and followed the signs pointing to the Global Initiatives banquet being held in the Boylston room. The hotel was huge—thirty-eight floors of rooms, suites, and conference areas. Astounding. Sadie imagined the view of the St. Charles River was breathtaking from the upper levels, but she was glad the Global Initiatives event was on the main floor so she didn’t have to navigate vertically as well as horizontally. She entered the area outside of the Boylston room and realized that posh in Boston, Massachusetts, was very different from posh in Garrison, Colorado. The women fairly sparkled with their perfectly highlighted hair, shimmering jewelry, and translucent-looking skin. Sadie didn’t fit in as well as she’d hoped, and her insecurity about her hair tripled, but she stood up straight and hoped no one was assessing her as closely as she was assessing them.
Sadie unbuttoned the peacoat and tucked her scarf under the collar while she looked around. Two women sat at a table labeled Registration; one of the women was wearing a mink-collared vest. As women approached the table and gave their names, they were checked off a list and allowed to enter the banquet room. Sadie avoided the table, but she did walk by the doorway and estimated there were seats for about sixty. Only a dozen women sat or stood by the tables—none of them Gabrielle. Other guests were talking in small groups in the foyer area, which was really just an extra-wide hallway. Sadie had sent the photo of Gabrielle from the art gallery’s website to her phone for reference and double-checked it as she scanned faces. It took only a few minutes to wind through the groups of chattering women who hadn’t gone in yet for Sadie to assure herself that Gabrielle wasn’t among them.
She imagined Pete back at the house, spending the evening with the three little boys, and felt a lump rise in her throat at missing it. Gabrielle better realize how serious Sadie was now. The deadline she and Pete had decided on for tomorrow morning helped reassure her that one way or another she was getting closer to being finished with this. But she still hoped she wasn’t wasting her time at this event that made her feel frumpy and anxious.
She wandered for the next ten minutes, feigning interest in the art on the walls and overall design of the hotel—which really was lovely—while avoiding eye contact, which wasn’t difficult since no one seemed to notice her. She continued to notice them, however, and coveted a few of the particularly striking brand-name handbags and designer shoes she couldn’t afford. Definitely not Garrison.
Finally, she saw a profile she recognized in a group of women who’d just come around the corner from the direction of the registration desk. Sadie moved closer and consulted her phone to make sure that the woman was, in fact, Gabrielle Marrow. She didn’t look much like the woman she’d seen at Mrs. Wapple’s yesterday, which only meant that she’d put a lot into getting ready for tonight’s dinner. She was dressed in high-heeled boots, trim tweed slacks, and a burnished red leather blazer that brought out the red tones in her golden-brown hair. The big diamond ring on her finger caught the light when she tucked her hair behind her ear. Her makeup was flawless.
Sadie quickly slid into line behind Gabrielle, then took a breath and tapped her on the shoulder.
Gabrielle turned, freezing when she saw Sadie standing there instead of the acquaintance she surely had expected. Sadie gave her a few seconds to let the recognition set in. Probably like a toothache if the expression on Gabrielle’s face was any indication.
“Hi, Gabrielle,” Sadie said when she was certain Gabrielle knew who she was. “I wonder if I could have a word.”
Gabrielle glanced at the woman closest to her and then plastered a smile on her face when the woman turned to see what was going on. “Um, will you check me in?” she asked her friend. “I’ll be right back.” She continued to smile at Sadie. “Over here?” she asked, pointing toward the far end of the gathering area as she adjusted her purse strap nervously.
Sadie nodded, but caught the darting looks Gabrielle cast around the group as they moved away, as though hoping no one was noticing her. The woman Gabrielle had been standing next to in line pulled her eyebrows together as much as her Botox would allow and lifted a hand to her hair—too much hair to not have extensions. Sadie smiled politely and then hurried to keep up with Gabrielle, who was several steps ahead. When they were far enough away to suit Gabrielle, she turned Sadie so that Sadie’s back was to the group of people. Her expression was as pleasant as ever. Her tone, on the other hand, was not. “What are you doing here?”
“Trying to get your attention,” Sadie said.
“I assured you that everything was being taken care of.”
“I know that’s what you said,” Sadie agreed. “But I did not feel as though you were . . . listening to what I had to say. I am very—”
“Of course I was listening,” Gabrielle cut in, folding her arms. “But I can’t drop everything at a moment’s notice.” Sadie watched Gabrielle wrestle with what she’d said behind her perfectly polite, if not plastic, expression.
“If you understood how concerned I was, you would drop everything to look in on your sister. She is—”
“I know.” Gabrielle looked past Sadie’s shoulder, irritable and impatient.
Sadie followed her glance to see the blonde woman Gabrielle had come with chatting with a few other attendees of tonight’s banquet. Gabrielle obviously wanted to join that discussion rather than have this one.
“She hates doctors,” Gabrielle admitted, finally participating in the discussion. “She won’t go.”
“You might have to make her go, then,” Sadie said. “She’s in a great deal of pain, and while I don’t know what her typical behavior consists of, she’s coming out at night, yelling at the neighbors, and talking to people who aren’t there.”
Gabrielle’s jaw tightened even though she continued to smile. She leaned forward, although her expression barely shifted. It was strange to hear the tone of her words and yet see her smiling at the same time. “This is not the place—”
“Then when?” Sadie said, disappointed that Gabrielle was still worried only about causing a scene. If Sadie had only wanted to embarrass Gabrielle there were far better ways to do it. Sadie’s phone chimed, indicating a text message, but she ignored it for now. “And where? I already tried calling you and—”
“How did you even find me? How did you know I would be here?”
Still about Gabrielle. “You’re her sister,” Sadie said, hearing the sorrow in her tone as she tried to redirect the conversation back to Mrs. Wapple. “Look, I really don’t play hardball very well,” she said, “but there is something wrong with your sister.”
Gabrielle glanced over Sadie’s shoulder again, a wave of fear crossing her face. “Can you give me twenty minutes? Let me get settled in, and then I’ll meet you in the Connexion Lounge—not here.”
Not where anyone she knows might see us, Sadie mentally translated.
“I can wait twenty minutes,” she said with a nod, quick to agree to any terms that would give her what she’d come for.
Gabrielle nodded and took a few steps away before turning back and giving Sadie a look that was either repentant or embarrassed, Sadie wasn’t sure which. “I’m not a bad person,” she said quietly.
“Then do the right thing by your sister.”
That brought Gabrielle up short, but after a brief pause, she turned and hurried back to her friends. As soon as Gabrielle rejoined her group, the other women leaned into her while glancing at Sadie. Did Sadie really look so out of place that she warranted being such a furtive topic of discussion? She smoothed her shirt front and headed toward the lobby. Sadie had already passed the Connexion Lounge, so it wasn’t hard to find her way back to it.
She situated herself on the surprisingly comfortable chairs in such a way that she would be able to see Gabrielle when she appeared in the lobby area below her. Then she was left with one of her least favorite things to do—wait. It was a beautiful lounge, complete with mini fire pits on some of the tables. You didn’t see indoor flames very often these days. The warmth was nice, and she hoped it would help take the edge off the wait before her.
She let herself relax for a few minutes as the warmth and dancing fire worked their magic, then she remembered the text message that had arrived while she and Gabrielle had been talking. Grateful for the distraction, she retrieved her phone from the inside pocket of her purse that looked like a Kmart special compared to what the other women were carrying. Oh yeah, it was a Kmart special.
The text was from Shawn, checking in. She quickly texted back that she was waiting to talk to the sister. His reply asked her to call when she was done, and Sadie couldn’t help but smile at his determination to be involved. Oh, but to have even a little bit of his enthusiasm. As it was, Sadie’s drive was waning since so little of what she’d discovered or encountered was positive. No one seemed to want Sadie involved in this . . . well, except Shawn, but he wasn’t here so it didn’t feel fair to count him. With a little luck, talking to Gabrielle would end Sadie’s involvement. After assuring Shawn she would let him know how it went, she ended the conversation and began writing down a list of what she wanted to talk to Gabrielle about.
A large man suddenly appeared at the right side of her chair, startling her.
He was Caucasian, with a square face, square jaw, and expansive chest and shoulders. His crew cut made his hair look like freshly mowed grass, except it was blond, not green. He looked down at her with a steeled expression, and Sadie tried not to cower under the weight of his glare. “Are you Sadie Hoffmiller?”
She recovered from her surprise enough to register the security guard uniform and slowly closed her notebook before standing up in order to be at his same level. Unfortunately, he was still nearly a foot taller than she was, and she continued to feel intimidated.
“Yes, I’m Sadie Hoffmiller. Can I help you?”
“I’ll need to ask you to leave the hotel, ma’am.”
“Leave?” Sadie asked, raising her eyebrows. “Why?”
“A guest at the hotel has reported that you’ve been harassing her. Management has asked that you leave, since you’re not a paying guest or on any of the guest lists of tonight’s closed events.”
Sadie felt heat creeping up her neck. “I’m not harassing anyone. I simply came here to talk to her.”
“And she has requested that you be removed from the premises.”
Sadie scanned his face in hopes of finding some sympathy, but she saw none. This obviously wasn’t the first time he’d had to do this, and Sadie was embarrassed to be treated as though she were doing something wrong. But right now embarrassment was weakness and she needed to appear strong so she tamped it down and drew together all her confidence.
“There’s simply been a misunderstanding,” Sadie said calmly. “She asked me to meet her here in the Connexion Lounge in”—she turned her wrist to see the time on her watch—“about ten minutes.”
He blinked at her but was not swayed. “I need you to exit the hotel and vacate the premises.”
“But I am not harassing her!” Sadie said, incensed by the injustice. A couple seated a few tables away turned to watch the scene, and she felt her cheeks heat up even more as anger mingled with her embarrassment.
The security guard pulled himself up even straighter, adding two more inches to his already imposing frame. “If you refuse to cooperate, this will get a lot more complicated. I’ll ask you one more time to vacate the premises.”
Chapter 12
The security guard walked her back to the mall and watched until she turned a corner out of view. Her cheeks were still on fire as she hurried into the subway car and took a seat in the corner, heading back to Forest Hills. The vapor of defeat surrounded her in the capsule, which smelled like stale exhaust and wet cement. A group of teenage girls occupied the other end of the car, and she ignored them, glad that they did the same to her as she stared out the window at the dark subway tunnel, trying to decompress from what had happened. She couldn’t believe Gabrielle had turned her in to security! Why was she so against Sadie’s help? Was she hiding something? Should Sadie be protecting Mrs. Wapple from her sister?
Thinking about Mrs. Wapple stirred up a whole list of questions: Was she digging for potatoes again tonight? Was she hurting? Mumbling about the angry birds in her head? No. First thing tomorrow, Sadie would call social services and wash her hands of the whole situation. She’d done enough—too much, perhaps—but at least she knew she’d done her very best. Gabrielle couldn’t say the same thing.
After marinating in her embarrassment for a few minutes, she dialed Shawn’s number, turning away from the girls, who were, like, totally having a great time.
“Hey,” she said. “I’m on the subway so if my call drops or it gets too loud, I’ll call you when I get to Jamaica Plain.”
“Okay,” Shawn said. “So, what happened?”
Sadie laid out all the gory details.
“I can’t believe she had you kicked out,” Shawn said when Sadie finished unloading the events of her evening. “Are you okay?”
The question unhinged her a little bit, and a wave
of unexpected emotion caused tears to rise in her eyes. “I’m okay,” she said, but her tone sounded vulnerable even to her own ears. The fact was she could really use a hug right about now. It was a good thing Pete was so huggable and waiting for her at Jared’s house. “I’m just . . . embarrassed.” She blinked several times to clear the tears.
“Yeah, I bet,” Shawn said. “Are you going to try to talk to her again?”
“No,” Sadie said, shaking her head for emphasis. “We’ll call social services in the morning and let them take it from here. Gabrielle knows how her sister is living, and she’s chosen to do nothing about it. I don’t know why I thought talking to her would change anything, but I no longer believe Mrs. Wapple’s sister is her best option.”
“Well, you’ve sure gone the extra mile, Mom, you can feel good about that.”
More tears. He was such a good son.
“And you have all the luck,” Shawn said. “Always stumbling into adventure.”
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