by Joyia Marie
“Since I’m not Leslie Vandersmoot. All I can do is speculate,” I smiled when her face dropped again and the hand holding the jump drive loosened again.
“You see if I was Leslie Vandersmoot the only thing I could think of that would be more important than fame, fortune, or infamy would be a person. Someone I loved. Someone I wanted to protect with everything I have. Someone like a child or children.”
Jillian eyes widened as if I was speaking a foreign concept and I felt another spurt of sadness for her. Who had failed to protect her when she needed it, I wondered. My mother would go to the mat for me just as I would for my kids. Jillian didn’t stand a chance.
“You see the way I see it, in my story, Leslie Vandersmoot has children. Not babies, but not adults yet, maybe around pre-teen age. She figured that adolescence was hard enough without having the reigning queen of erotic romance as a mother.“ I stopped again until she nodded.
“I knew you’d understand. You know how kids are, you’re not far outside that range yourself,” I said throwing her a bone. “Kids are not predisposed to be kind and they will use any excuse to ostracize or tease.”
I felt sad when her face fell and she nodded again, this time sadly. So our girl was teased I thought and reading her mother’s bio, I could see why. What? Raphael is through. Especially with anything that might affect his niece and nephew. I knew everything about Jillian including her blood type.
“If you,” and I raised a brow at this. “Okay, okay, Leslie Vandersmoot cares so much about her kids then why doesn’t she just go home and be a mother to them?” Jillian asked in frustration.
“Sometimes, Jillian the right thing for the kids isn’t necessarily the most comfortable thing for the mother. I think all children, including Leslie Vandersmoot’s deserve to have a father. I think she grew up without one and is determined for her kids to have what she didn’t. So even thought she might want her kids with her, she realizes her husband is easily influenced and he might slip away without intending to and leave his children without a father.”
Here I just looked at Jillian and her face was blood red. I think she was finally getting a glimpse of what her machinations had caused. All she saw was Harold not the children he’d be left behind.
“So I think the best thing for all of us would be for you to give me that jump drive before you hurt yourself or somebody else,” I said with my hand outstretched. I held my breath.
This was it. If she handed it over we could all retire to our corners without all the dirty linen piled on the floor and if not, then well on her head be it.
Chapter Fifty-Three: Helen
We stared at each for a long moment and in slow motion she extended the jump drive and it was almost in my hand when she snatched it back. She shook her head as if shaking off a spell. The brown showed again, but she didn’t bother with the headband.
“I think you are Leslie Vandersmoot,” she said that crafty look back on her face. “I think that’s why you want this jump drive. So I think I’ll be hanging on to this. Maybe I can get someone to believe me.”
I tried I thought as I got up to get the folder Raphael prepared for me. She looked at the folder when I sat back down tapping in against my palm. I looked at her and smiled, “that your final answer?” I asked in my best Regis Philbin impression.
“Uh, what’s that?” she asked, her eyes trained on the folder.
I couldn’t blame her for being nervous. I would be nervous. We all have secrets and I’m sure she was wondering which ones of hers I had ferreted out.
She would not be happy to know, the answer was all of them. The only way she could have a secret not in this folder would be if it was something only she knew about, only she was present for and in a cave so only she could see her do it, whatever it was. Otherwise, I knew it all chapter and verse.
“Oh, just the answer to who you really are,” I said as I laid the folder in my hand and flipped it open. She tried to peak over the top, but I held it up so she couldn’t see. My folder, my show, it would be dramatic but I didn’t think she’d enjoy it. “Since that seems to be the theme of the day.”
“Let’s see, Jillian Cathleen Reynolds, born September 16, 1987. Hmm, that would make you 27? Funny, but for some strange reason Harold thinks you’re 22. Oh, I’m sure he won’t mind. After all, he took the hair color thing so well,” I said, giving her a wry look as I showed her a copy of her birth certificate. I smiled as her face dropped.
“When he sees these pictures of you when you were 22, he’ll forget all about that. I’m sure Harold Sr. will be happy to include these in the company newsletter,” I said, showing her some pictures of her wild and wooly days as a lingerie model.
Her face panicked then she rallied yet again. I was impressed. Maybe she and Tonya did stand a chance. Once Tonya understood she couldn’t run over her, they’d get along like a house on fire. I could see them shopping and giggling like girlfriends.
I would still be the one to take her to the salon, that was family bonding time with her, Raphael and me, but Jillian were more than welcome to take Tonya shopping. Hell, I’d give her a credit card myself.
“That stuff doesn’t matter. I’m nobody and the only people who’d care about this are Harold and his parents so do your worst. It will only make me more determined to find that one reporter eager to run with this story,” she said firmly.
“Oh, but you see, you’re only nobody and I use that term loosely, because nobody is nobody. We’re all somebody to somebody. You will become somebody to everybody if that story should happen to come out.
“You know why you’ll become somebody to everybody? Because that same reporter you find, I’ll go to and deny the story, then give them the story of the lingerie model slash home wrecker trying to ruin an innocent mother of teenage twins in an effort to drive a wedge between the mother and her children.
“I’ll give them a copy of this easily verified file of information on that lingerie model slash home wrecker. A file much more easily verified than that jump drive of yours with its unknown origin.
“For all I know and for all I’ll say, you created that thing yourself to make me look bad,” here I stopped with a smug look on my face. I hoped she could see I was dead serious. As I said before, a good offense beats a good defense every day.
I watched her try to think of a way out of this, but I knew there wasn’t one. Raphael and I had hammered this out this week while waiting for Jillian to make contact. Raphael was a tactician in the Marines so I’d back him against Jillian any day or the week.
I held out my hand again with the calm expectation that I used the day I found Tonya holding Grandma Gert’s 22 pistol. The gun was empty which is why I was only sweating bullets instead of dodging them but I needed Tonya to give me the gun. If I took it, then she’d just fight me. I needed her to understand I was Mama and when Mama said give, you gave.
I had kept the gun in a keepsake box on my dresser and my little intrepid explorer found it at age two. I’m still not sure how she constructed that ladder, but that wasn’t what my worry was. Tonya and I looked at each other for a long minute, like two gunslingers before a shootout. One of the gunslingers had a gun and the other had a hand and the power of ‘Mama’ but you know what I mean.
Finally, when I thought my mama power had failed me and I was going to have to snatch the thing out of her hand, Tonya shoved it into my palm with a sigh. I took the gun, handed it to Mrs. Gunderson, who was standing behind me holding Tony and grabbed my daughter. She and I enjoyed a cuddle while I tried to explain the danger of guns to a two year old. Barney never did a song about that.
I think that’s the day I finally got it. My life as a woman was over and my life as a mother began. My kids were all and are all and if this little girl didn’t get that, then she soon would. I would run a scorched earth campaign that would make sure she died a lonely old maid. She needed not let the smooth taste fool her. I may come across as happy, jokey Helen but underneath it all was a mama bea
r more than ready to protect her cubs.
“I’ll trade you,” she said rallying again. I was beginning to see why this woman was in sales. She just wouldn’t give up. I just shook my head and continued to hold out my hand.
“How do I know you’re not going to go running to Harold with it the minute I leave?” she said the jump drive half way to my palm.
“If I was going to then I would have already. I have no interest in messing up you and Harold. Harold and I are over and he needs a keeper. I think you’ll do just fine,” I said with a small smile.
She smiled as well before slapping the jump drive into my palm. I closed my hand over it and held back a sigh of relief. Almost there, I thought. Part one is now over on to part two.
I took the jump drive and the file to the wall safe the motel supplied for keeping valuables. The jump drive wouldn’t be ‘valuable for much after Jillian left, but I needed a place to tuck it where she couldn’t get it back in case she reconsidered.
“So what happens now?” I asked after I locked up the jump drive and the file.
My laptop and other jump drives were already in there, which is where they would be unless I was working on something. I had already talked to Denise, Aiden’s sister about installing a safe the loft. After this, safety first was my new motto as in better safe than sorry. Still getting the cloud drive, but in case the clouds fail me, I would like to have a backup here on earth.
“What do you mean? I’m going home to pack. I guess I’ll go back to Houston until I get another stake together,” Jillian said looking slightly lost.
“Pack? What for?” I asked completely confused. I don’t remember saying anything about this town was only big enough for one of us, but if I did I had no problem retracting it.
“Well, after you tell Harold about all this, I’m sure to lose my fiancé as well as my job so there won’t be much left for me here,” Jillian said sadly.
I checked to see if she was playing me, as far as I could tell she wasn’t, so I felt okay about part two of the plan. I didn’t particularly care for Jillian, I probably never would, but Jillian was a known evil. Like Harold Sr. back in the day, I’m a little afraid of what might be behind door number two with Harold. Therefore, Jillian would do just fine.
“I don’t plan to tell Harold about this. It’s all one big misunderstanding right?” I asked with a raised brow. Okay, gotta stop doing that, I thought, I was getting a cramp in my face.
She looked at me like a convict saved by the governor at the last minute then her face darkened. “Why are you being so nice to me? Why are you using this as an opportunity to get rid of me and get your husband back?”
“Jillian like I said before Harold and I are done. All I want is for him to be happy so he will be a good dad to my kids. If you think you can be a good wife to him and a decent step mother to my kids, I have no problem with you,” I said as honestly as I could.
She looked at me for a long moment as if I was speaking Swahili then her face got crafty again. “Oh, I know what this is about, this is about the construction worker. I guess you can afford him, but you know he’s just a construction worker, right,” she said earnestly.
I swear I wanted to pat her little pointed head. What a sweet girl, trying to look out for me. I decided not to enlighten her. Too much information would be a bad thing. Because while I am ready to forgive and forget with Harold, if she makes a play for Aiden, I’ll take out an ad in every paper in the nation and display her picture, stats and modus operandi.
Aiden is another one that could earn her a scorched earth campaign. Aiden was mine. I paused when I thought that. Wait a minute Aiden was his own and I was just hoping to borrow him every now and again.
All this presupposes that he’ll forgive me for ducking him all week. I wanted to talk to him, but he gets my head all muddled and I needed a clear head to think about this meeting.
Jillian was still sitting there looking confused and I felt another flare of sorrow for her. Hadn’t she ever been given a second chance? I wasn’t sure what else to say to her the rest was up to her. She and I had no more business unless she messed over my kids then we’d have to have a little sit down but as for now, we were good.
I looked at Jillian and she continued to sit there. I didn’t know how to get rid of her. What was the Emily Post way of saying, ‘sorry your little scheme to blackmail me didn’t work but you can go now’? I think Emily needs to write a new book.
Just when I thought I might need to call security or something she came back from wherever she went. She jumped up and I stood up. I could tell she wanted to do something, but wasn’t sure what. We weren’t in a hugging situation so she looked a bit stymied. I stuck out my hand and she shook it as if she was running for congress.
“Thank you, thank you so much, you won’t be sorry,” she beamed at me.
“I hope not, Jillian,” I said warningly, “or you will be,” I ended with a gesture toward the safe and its contents. She looked a little discomfited then she shook it off.
“Like I said, you won’t be sorry,” she said then walked to the door and out.
I walked behind her to shut the door when a card caught my eye. I grabbed it and chased Jillian to her car. I caught up with her right when she was about to start her car. She rolled down the window a tentative expression on her face.
“I forgot to give you this, I said, handing her the card. She looked at the card from Raphael’s with a confused frown. I turned the card over and it showed my signature. “Show this at the counter and they will let you in. They’re expecting you tomorrow evening after you get off work.”
Her eyes widened, then a huge smile broke out over her face. She looked like she had gotten a golden ticket Ala Charlie and The Chocolate Factory. Well, she should. It had taken a lot of persuading to get Raphael to rescind her banishment. I finally told him I didn’t think Harold would stick with a mousy brown hairy woman for him to relent. I’m not the only one who thinks Harold needs a keeper.
“Thank you, oh thank you,” she breathed before turning on her car and leaving. I watched the car drive away and felt like a good day's work was done. Now for one last bit of business then I could get to the business of Aiden and me.
I walked back into the motel to call Raphael and find out where he and my mother were. I was hoping to catch up with them for dinner and after dinner, I would be checking to see what Raphael would be doing the next morning.
Chapter Fifty-Four: Helen
The next morning found Raphael and I in his SUV tooling toward Peterson Paper. I had caught up with them for dinner at Fiesta’s and true to form, mom ate like a sailor on shore leave. We ate, talked, and laughed until the restaurant closed, then me and mother returned to the motel.
She and I ‘enjoyed’ a last cup of tea and I asked her another question that was bothering me. “Mother, why did you introduce me to Harold?”
She looked at me with a small smile and said, “ darling, I will admit to introducing you to him, but I refuse to accept blame for you marry him. That you did all on your own.”
I smiled and had to admit that was true. “Okay, point taken, but why? Harold wasn’t anything like the men you usually ‘set aside’ for me, so why him?”
“Daring to be perfectly honest, I hope Harold would help you break that fascination you had with normality, or what you considered normality,” she said with a rueful sigh. “It never occurred to me you’d actually marry him or stay married to him for so long but you did get my brilliant grandchildren out of it so I can’t complain. Have they picked an area yet?”
“Mother, they are only twelve. You know I didn’t settle on writing until I was almost out of high school. Give them time. Mrs. Gunderson is teaching them art, I know you are taking them out with their cameras when you are in town and Tonya mentioned them taking up drama when they get to high school. They’re still exploring,” I said with a smile.
I didn’t mention the fact, Aunt Josephine was pushing for the twins to come d
uring the summer to learn pottery. She wanted to teach them to throw pots. I wasn’t looking forward to that. Aunt Josephine’s pots were only good for throwing against the wall.
“I know darling, but I worry. You might not have settled on writing until you were about to graduate and don’t think I don’t know you dragged your feet to freak me out. But you were scribbling stories from age eight. The twins seem to be drifting. Are you sure they aren’t planning on becoming paper-pushers like their father?” mother said with true worry in her voice.
“Would that be so bad?” I asked honestly.
I thought Tony might become an artist as he spent a lot of time drawing, but I didn’t tell my mom that. I wanted Tony to become what he became not what Mother, Tonya or I wanted him to become.
I probably worry about Tony most of the twins because he’s so quiet and so content to follow Tonya’s lead. I knew he needed to come out from under his sister's shadow, but I didn’t know how to make that happen in a way that wouldn’t be traumatic for them both.
“No, Helen, not at all and I guess one of them is going to have to do it as they will be inheriting a paper company, but still we are art folk and I wouldn’t want to lose that,” Mother said with a final sip of her tea.
She set the cup in the sink, gave me a kiss on the forehead, and then went to bed. Soon, I could hear the well-mannered trumpeting of my mother’s snores. Mother is another one like Sonya who swears she doesn’t snore and I’m content to let her have her illusions.
I set my alarm for eight and when I emerged Mother was already gone as I knew she would be. She had arranged for dark room time the second she got off her flight and as usual, she was eager to start processing her film.
My mother acted like a kid at Christmas time when she developed. She would ooh and ahh like the pictures appeared by magic instead of the result of hours sitting and hoping for the perfect shot.
Her shot ‘Beauty’ took three months to shoot. Oh, she took rolls of film while she waited, but it was that shot that she is most famous for. In fact, she told me once after she took that shot, she ended the trip and returned home. She had the shot that would make the statement she was trying to make.