I needed to leave town and not waste time. Colt had more than likely read the look on my face. I wasn’t safe. The man had money, connections and he was not stupid. I had nowhere else to go, but home.
With Carrie in the car seat and our belongings, or what was left of them, stowed in the trunk, we left the Chicago skyline in the rearview mirror. I felt the crushing disappointment that my dreams had failed.
Metallica had been curt, and I don’t think very surprised. In fact, I had probably saved her the trouble of firing me. It wasn’t so much that I’d lost control of the meeting, as it was that I’d withheld the information about Carrie. I suspected Metallica was not the motherly type and had hoped to see me as a career woman who would settle for nothing less. I would never give up my daughter, but I had to admit that solitude looked pretty good about then.
Goodbye Chicago. Goodbye Colt Stillman.
Chapter 17
Coulter
It was three weeks following Buddy’s accident and we were moving him into the best physical therapy complex I could find. Every patient was given a personal workup and the therapist to patient ratio was one to three. In between workouts, Buddy was served five-star meals and given massages by the industry’s best. I saw to it that he didn’t need to worry about a thing. Luckily, the surgery had worked and once the swelling reduced, Buddy regained consciousness on his own. Other than the physical therapy needed to regenerate his body strength and flexibility, he had come through it like a champ. He was strong and as I reminded him, I’d never had any doubt.
My commitment to my friend also required that I look after his business interests until he could return. It added considerably to my workload but I was more than willing to do it. I had no life of my own any longer, not since Gwen left.
Bitsy was probably the most loyal person I’d ever encountered. Not only was she there each and every day for Buddy, but she protected Gwen furiously and wouldn’t tell me a thing. While I was fairly sure Gwen had gone back to her family, what left me baffled was the reason why. We’d spent that wonderful evening together and I had felt the beginning of something new rising in my chest. It involved pride, a sense of belonging, and yes, love. Then came the accident and everything changed.
I was breathing, there was no better way to describe it. I had opened my heart and trusted and for some reason, she turned her back on me and left, again. I spent long hours and many bourbons debating whether I should go after her. For the immediate future, it was out of the question. I was too busy with Buddy and his obligations. Then I had my own businesses to look after. All my permits had been restored and the busiest season for building was upon us. Whatever was wrong with Gwen, she needed to sort it out for herself. She needed to put some time and space between us. God, but I wish I knew what had her so terrorized. She didn’t trust me, that much was evident.
So, it was early winter, and Buddy was finally to the point where he could put a couple hours into work each day and was becoming stronger. He said they told him he would be himself again within a year, to just add to his duties gradually. He asked Bitsy to move in with him once he was able to go back to his condo. She hadn’t hesitated, and I didn’t blame her. Not only was he, in my opinion, one of the greatest guys on the planet, he needed her and she responded to that. I sent a couple of guys with her to the apartment to clear out her things, but they’d returned with an empty truck. She’d told them it wasn’t necessary, she was leaving almost everything behind in the dumpster. I guessed Buddy was her future and I wished them both success and good health.
That left me with Gwen. Over the interim months, I’d gone through a series of phases. At first, I had been puzzled by her disappearance. Bitsy was not forthcoming and there was no other explanation as far as I could find. I even sent my receptionist back to the dress shop and she asked for Gwen by name but was told that she no longer worked there and could someone else help her. It was a dead end.
Gwen had never picked up the car I bought her. I probably hadn’t handled that well. I should have given it to her face to face, but with Buddy’s accident, well, there just wasn’t an opportunity. I felt compelled to look after her and her child. Giving her safe transportation was a very small part of what I was willing to do.
The next phase I went through was anger. I asked myself what I had done to alienate her? Had I not been a good lover, or had I been too good? Had I reminded her of someone and was that someone the person who rooted the distrust in her? Had I ignored her? No, I didn’t think so. If anything, I had pursued her beyond the normal fashion. Maybe that was it. Maybe I didn’t give her the space she needed. Whatever it was, she was gone and that’s when I moved into the final phase.
I missed her. There was no simpler way of stating it. I was in love with the woman and the woman wanted nothing to do with me. Life became colorless for me. There was no longer any challenge in building a skyscraper or fighting with the unions. Money had never been an issue so making more seemed redundant. My parents could see the change in my attitude and asked me about it over long dinners at their house on weekends. I started going there more frequently than I had before, simply because it gave me a sense of belonging. I became the little boy who was homesick, how silly was that?
I tried dating other women. It didn’t work. They didn’t have her hair, her eyes, her mouth or that sweet, voluptuous body that had nestled against my back the night we spent together. I rejected each one in turn, almost to the point of cruelty before I finally called it quits and accepted the fact that there was no other woman who would ever make me happy again.
That left me with one choice. I had to find her, and I had to win her back. The finding part wasn’t hard. I put my guy on it and a couple of hours later, I had an address and phone number. I knew where she was. I told Peter to pack a bag and sent to him down to Brookfield. His job was to lay low but watch high, in a matter of speaking. He was my man on the ground and he reported to me at least six times a day. He found her but she was not aware of it. He made several inquiries in town and just as I had thought, there had been a man early on who was Carrie’s father. He had joined the Army and at some point, the Army decided they no longer wanted him. How that affected her, I wasn’t sure, but I wanted to be certain she was safe. That, too, for the meantime, was Peter’s job.
I had him scout out a location for a new business. I had no great thirst for starting yet another company, but I wanted a reason to move to Brookfield and to do my own watching. He found a manufacturing company that was on the edge of foreclosure. They produced health and beauty aids for generic brand labeling. The company should have expanded long before and that lack of foresight had led to the competition swallowing them. They held a few patents, which was a plus, but their equipment was antiquated and slow. Their employees were underpaid and frequently injured. In the normal course of things, they would have gone out of business through mere attrition. In my usual style, I was going to interfere with that. Thus, I bought Marshall Manufacturing.
I rented a car and wore sunglasses and a ball cap to disguise my appearance. I went by the name of Mr. Marshall, with Tom as my first name. The employees were told I was a cousin of the original founder and they accepted that without question. They were only too happy that I had become involved because it meant that their jobs were safe. I closed up my condo and moved to Brookfield, purchasing a large rustic cabin deep in the woods not far from the company. I had privacy fencing with security installed on the perimeter and for all purposes, became a hermit except for the time I spent at the factory. I was always in disguise, with only Peter knowing who I really was. I’d hired someone to take my place in the city until such time as Buddy was back up to full speed and would take over for me. I’d already decided to stay in Brookfield permanently.
I had a small staff at the cabin, people I brought with me who weren’t interested in local gossip. There was a housekeeper, a groundskeeper, a security man, and Peter lived in a guest cottage at the edge of the property. It seemed he had, in
the course of investigating for me, met a young local girl and become quite enamored. He never let it interfere with his job and I allowed him to bring her onto the estate to stay with him at the cottage from time to time. It was a situation that seemed to meet everyone’s needs. Everyone, but me.
I revamped the entire plant, installing state-of-the-art equipment, instated the latest in production techniques, and gave salary increases with benefits including an on-site health club, restaurant, daycare, and a few shops. In many ways, working for me was better than living in town. I kept quality high and the prices dirt low. There was a waiting list for jobs as they opened up.
As much as I wanted to, I didn’t try to see Gwen. There was too great a chance she would see through my disguise and that would ruin everything. Once the plant was running smoothly, I put a supervisor in charge and retreated to the cabin. I sent Peter out to make sure that Gwen needed a job and was hired at Marshall Manufacturing. She was given an administrative job, one that gave her some managerial control. I thought that might help her to restore a bit of the insecurity she built since that first relationship. Word got back to me that she was doing well, in fact, she was very good at her job. She was well-paid, far above that of the others and for that reason, anyone who divulged their salary was instantly fired. I watched her now that I was on high. I watched her, and I waited for my chance.
Chapter 18
Gwen
Carrie and I were living with my parents in the sleepy town of Brookfield once again. It says somewhere that all roads lead back home again and I guess in my case, that was true. Carrie loved it. She thrived with the added attention that my parents lavished on her. Their house was large enough that we had separate rooms and Carrie began to walk if what somewhat unsteadily. Her room was filled with toys, the bounty she gained from my parents, my friends, and myself. Babies were like that. It made people feel better to see a baby play; maybe it was reliving their own childhood. There was no lack of babysitters, including my old friend, Patsy. She'd appeared on the horizon from the beginning, listening to my tales of woe and encouraging me that now that I was home again, things would work out okay.
I found a job at the local grocery store as a cashier. I was certainly overqualified but very grateful to have the job, so I made the best of it. My feet were a little sore at first, the long hours standing there, scanning people's purchases. But as it turned out, it was a good way to get reacquainted with the people I'd known and missed. They told me their aches and pains, their griefs, and broken hearts. I could relate. My own heart was broken. I still couldn't figure out what had turned Colt into the man who had destroyed my apartment in such a malicious, pointed way.
There were still phone calls to my parents’ house which when I answered, there were a few moments of breathing and then the line disconnected. There was no number to trace and no way to block it from a landline. I was stuck with it and suggested to my parents that they invest in cell phones and get rid of the landline entirely. Mom was rather excited by the idea, but dad, being a banker, saw no savings in changing. He’d done things the same way for a hundred years and he would continue for the next hundred. I couldn't blame him. There was a certain amount of security in doing things the same way.
My car had held up pretty well for its age. There were days when it wasn't quite as cooperative, and I had to walk to work. It didn't bother me. Even though it was cold, the air was refreshing, and it was good exercise. Dad always offered to drive me, but I refused. I didn't want to become dependent on anyone, not even my own father.
Mom and Dad had plans to go to their timeshare in Florida for the coldest part of the winter. They would be leaving right after Christmas. They had done this the past five years, but this year I would miss them especially. Carrie and I would have the house to ourselves, but somehow that felt a little spooky.
The mysterious phone calls continued. I knew they must be Colt. Only he had the persistence to carry it off. I missed him, I won't lie. Even though he had been intrusive to the point of irrational, I had gotten a little used to it and that evening we had spent together was the best of my life. I don't know what turned him that next morning and made him behave as he did. Perhaps I would never find out. It was one of those things I was dying to know, but afraid to find out.
Mom and Dad had left for Florida and Carrie and I moved to their downstairs bedroom. It helped to make things feel a little cozier in the big empty house. My job at the grocery store was becoming unbelievably boring, and it was only the thought of going home that kept the light at the end of the tunnel. I kept in touch with my friends and from time to time would ask one or two of the girls to come over and spend the night. We talked about old days and the boys we had known. One of the girls told me about job openings at the newly acquired Marshall Manufacturing. While I really wasn't interested in assembly line work, there was an outside chance that there might be an opening in their executive offices. I played around with the idea of applying but didn't act on it. One day, a young man came through the grocery line. He looked out of place, wearing an expensive topcoat and leather gloves. No one in Brookfield dressed like that, especially to go only to the grocery store. He was nice, good-looking, and very conversational.
I hadn't noticed him speaking to anyone else as he waited in line, but when he reached me, he couldn't seem to stop talking. I thought that was rather odd, except for the fact that he was dressed like an out-of-towner and couldn't understand how things operated. I could see he was rather uncomfortable, so I engaged in discussion, hoping to make him relax a little.
"So, you don't look like you're from around here," I began.
"No, you're right, I'm not."
"Maybe from Chicago?"
"Could be, something like that. You look familiar to me," he said.
"Really? Well, you're not from around here, I grew up here. Of course, there was a short stint when I lived in Chicago."
“What do you know. Maybe that’s where I saw you. You just looked so familiar to me."
“So, what brings you to Brookfield?" I was dragging out the discussion as long as I could. Oddly enough, he was buying 50 or so bottles of water, not in one handy pack, but in separate, individual bottles. I should've just counted them and multiplied that by one ring through, but we were having a conversation and it seemed sort of natural.
"Oh, just business."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. I'm with the new manufacturing company. Well, it's not exactly new, but I got hired on as an assistant to the new manager."
“Wow, that's great for you. "
"Actually, you look and sound kind of overqualified to work here at the grocery store. Have you thought about putting an application with Marshall?"
"No, not really. I'm really not much of a line person." We both laughed as we realized he was in my line.
"Well, hey, you know, there are jobs in the offices. Maybe one of those would suit you better?"
He was looking at me directly and while he was being attentive, there was something odd about it. I knew I had become overly suspicious, especially since Mom and Dad left Florida, leaving Carrie and I to ourselves. "You know, I might just give them a call and see what's available."
“Oh, hey, that would be great. Tell you what," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling on his business card, handing it in my direction. "Tell them I sent you and tell them I said to treat you right."
I laughed, accepting the card and sliding it into my jeans pocket. "I might just do that, don't be surprised if you see me around."
I thought about that man all afternoon as I worked. In fact, the more I thought about having a job that was less on my feet and took a little more brainpower, the harder my job as a cashier became. By the time I clocked out, I've made up my mind to try Marshall Manufacturing. After all, what did I have to lose?
* * *
The man across the desk from me held out his hand to shake. "Thank you very much for coming in, Gwen. Here is a packet of papers for you to compl
ete, and we look forward to seeing you here on Monday. You did say that childcare would not be a problem, correct?"
"I did say that. And it won't be. Although, I think you weren't supposed to ask me that."
The man looked surprised, even embarrassed. I wondered if he was doing his job or had boned up on all the discrimination laws when it came to hiring people. I let it go, though, because it meant that I had a brand-new job Monday morning. As a matter of fact, I was going to be the assistant to Peter, the young man who had come through my checkout lane. I thought that not only ironic, rather fun. I thought we would get along well. Of course, I would have to teach him how to dress, but I figured he was a quick learner. Yes, he was going to be an interesting experience.
I picked up Carrie from the daycare on my way home. As usual, she burst into a big grin as she saw me, and as usual, I hugged and kissed her until I thought I couldn't stop. We had become very close, she and I, even though she only had a vocabulary of about twenty words which included “cookie, cereal, mama, grandma, grandpa."
It hurt me that there was no “dad," included, but the rest of us made up for what she may have missed not having him.
Carrie and I arrived back at my parents’ house. There was an envelope; the large, business kind, stuffed into the mailbox. It was so large they'd been unable to shut the mailbox door. I put Carrie on my hip and grappled with the envelope to get it out. There was no return address and the addressee was me and it was handwritten. I thought that was unusual and wondered who might be sending me a package. It wasn't as if I didn't live right there in town.
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