by M. Sembera
Nodding, I replied, “It’s kinda complicated, I can’t move out until all this is over.”
“You mean until the divorce is final?” she quickly asked.
Realizing I had slipped up, I half-truthed, “We’re trying to keep it as quiet as possible.”
With a tone of disbelief, she asked, “And where do you plan on living after?”
I knew what she was really asking me as I assured, “I want to buy a house for me and Sophia.”
Suddenly cheery, Mrs. Thomas said, “The Bertrans are fixing to put their house up for sale, It’s just four down from us on the left.”
“Really when?” I blurted before saying, “Unless you think that’s too close.”
Being very clear, she assured, “Not for you and Sophia.”
Smiling, I nodded.
After Mrs. Thomas left, I had to laugh a little at her way of making sure Jackson and I were still just friends. I couldn’t blame her. I knew she loved me but I also knew she had both Jackson and I’s best interest at heart. Really, what mother on the face of this earth would want me with their son? Even Ms. Herterand seemed unhappy at first. Erin was the only one that looked past who I was. She had wanted Emerson and me together, that was clear, then she had a hand in Hert and I and now I knew, it was to ensure the success of her husband’s company.
Standing at the stove making dinner, I enjoyed the various sounds of being in a house with five kids. I found myself wondering what it would have been like if I had a sister or brother growing up, when Auggie tapped me on the back. A bit surprised at his smile, seeing as the day before he was quite a pain, I smiled back.
“How did you get Ailin to stop crying yesterday?” he asked.
Thinking something happened, I questioned, “Is he upset again?”
Shaking his head, Auggie looked at the floor, saying, “No.”
Giving a slight smile, I asked, “Are you upset?”
His attitude was back in full effect as he griped, “No, I was just askin’.”
Taking a deep breath, I turned the stove off and sat down at the kitchen table.
“Come sit down,” I said.
Auggie glared at me for a moment before taking a seat at the table next to me.
“Are you worried about your brother?” I asked.
Shrugging, he looked away, saying, “Maybe.”
Nodding at him, I offered, “I’m sure everything’s gonna be just fine.”
As he leaned forward slightly he scrunched up one side of his face closing one eye, asking, “Really?” I thought he looked just like Gus.
I couldn’t help but smile, saying, “You look just like your dad when you do that.”
Suddenly Auggie had an air of pride about him.
“Mom says I got all of him in one shot,” he proclaimed.
With a little laugh, I agreed, “Well she’s right.”
He laughed a little too before sliding out of his chair and heading back to the den.
When dinner was over, Braden, Jackson and I was were surprised that Auggie offered to help clean up. Making sure to thank him for all his help when we were done, I knew I had won him over. Sophia and Ailin snuggled up with me on the couch while Jackson held Penny. Braden and Auggie laid across the floor, watching the same movie from the night before. I watched Sophia falling asleep thinking, Jackson’s family would be like her family. Truthfully, if I could have picked a family to belong to this one would be it.
The more I thought about family, the more my thoughts turned to the notebook Dr. Chepelli gave me. With a heavy sigh, I stood up and walked to Jackson’s old room. After laying Sophia in the crib, I stepped out and ran right into Jackson.
“Oh, sorry,” I laughed heading back to the den.
His expression was pleasant as he said, “Penny and Ailin are asleep,” before asking, “You wanna come out back with me?”
“Sure,” I replied following him back through the den and out the side door.
Sitting down on an outdoor swing in the back yard, Jackson waited for me to sit before turning to face me.
“Do you want to talk about this morning?” he asked with a soft smile.
Taking a breath, I replied, “If it’s alright with you, I think I’ll opt out this time.”
Nodding, Jacks questioned, “Did your doctor’s appointment go okay?”
Shrugging slightly, I answered, “I’d rather not talk about that either.”
Concerned he asked, “Is there something wrong with you?”
Starting to laugh, I said, “Really, after all this time you have to ask…”
Serious he snapped, “Ren.”
Tilting my head to the side, I assured, “Nothing’s wrong, he really just wanted to have a conversation with me.”
With a confused expression Jacks asked, “About?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it right now,” I urged, hoping he didn’t press me.
Feeling his fingers slide between mine, I leaned my head on his shoulder.
We sat on the swing outside for a while before Jackson released my hand and placed his arm around me. Closing my eyes, I leaned into his side. As my mind wandered to Jackson holding me in the kitchen, saying he wanted to kiss me, I wished I could be with him. Mentally shaking off the thought, I knew I needed to bring us both back to reality.
Undecided at the moment, how good an idea it would be, I asked, “Can I talk to you?”
“Always,” he assured before I questioned, “Are you sure?”
I knew he was smiling as he replied, “Especially if it’s about me.”
Shaking my head, I nudged him, saying, “I’m being serious.”
Sliding back, Jackson turned to me.
Taking a deep breath, he said, “It depends, I don’t know how objective I can be at this point.”
Nodding, I asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you quit?”
“And Hert’s worried about me talking,” he griped before saying, “I wasn’t keeping it a secret but I wanted to tell you myself.”
Curious I said, “I thought you liked your job.”
Scowling, he stated, “I do,” before explaining, “It’s not unique to The Office though, I like being an accountant.”
“So are you going back to your dad’s firm?” I questioned.
With a slight nod, Jacks answered, “Eventually.”
Giving him a strange look, I asked, “Eventually?”
“I’m working on an accounting program so Hert can run the department,” he replied before sharing, “I don’t want to be a part of something you hate and I got to thinking, why bring it back to JPT.”
Looking at Jackson, I thought that was kind of noble of him.
Bringing up Mr. Thomas’ accounting firm, where The Office’s account originally was, reminded me of my shares. If Jacks didn’t want to have the account there, then I knew I didn’t want my shares or the money from Salvador there either. Putting an appointment at JPT with Mr. Thomas on my mental to-do list, I shifted my mind back to the shares.
“Does everyone that works for The Office have shares?” I asked.
As he nodded, I questioned, “Does Emerson still have shares?”
Jackson answered, “Yes,” before I asked, “He has money though, I mean, would he be okay without them?”
He nodded again.
Before he had a chance to speak, I asked, “What are you going to do with yours?”
“Probably cash them out, why?” he replied.
“Can I have them?” I asked.
With a shocked expression, Jackson started to answer, “I would but…” before I broke in, assuring, “I’ll pay you for them.”
“It’s not that Ren, I would just give them to you but it’s not that simple. It’s not a big deal to trade in shares. You get eighty five percent of the value and the shares are dissolved. Signing shares over to an individual, is an entirely different thing.” he informed.
With a little sigh, I questioned, “Okay, how is that done?”
Shaki
ng his head at me, Jacks answered, “Not only does the transaction have to be approved the paperwork is so detailed…. In all the years that The Office has been in operation, I only know of one time.”
Narrowing my eyes, I said, “My father and Salvador.”
“No,” he said before sharing, “Mrs. Roberts,” then questioned, “When did your father do that?”
“He sold my shares to Salvador but something about me already being eighteen made it invalid,” I replied.
Nodding, he said, “Now I understand. Still that’s different.”
Growing frustrated, I questioned, “So who has to approve it?”
With an unhappy expression, Jackson replied, “Mr. Ramsden.”
“What?” I blurted before griping, “Great.”
Shaking my head, I knew I needed outside help.
Thinking of all the things I needed to accomplish and wondering what else would come up, I knew finding out how Salvador knew about Sophia was at the top of my list. Clearly, he found out from someone and if he found out so could anyone else. It would never stop.
Sliding my hand into Jackson’s, I hesitantly informed, “I need to see if I can get HIM to tell me how Salvador gets his information.”
Instantly irritated, Jacks fussed, “No, you don’t.”
Taking a deep breath, I held his hand tighter, saying, “I think it’s worth taking the chance.”
“Worth taking the chance? What if HE says yes then tells Salvador?” he asked.
“That’s not how HE is. If HE won’t help, I’ll know right away,” I replied.
Shaking his head at me, Jackson griped, “Then you’re not going unless I go.”
With a loud exhale, I said, “I promise not to go alone but I don’t want you involved like that.”
“You swear to me,” he demanded before I swore, “I won’t go alone.”
Still upset, Jackson questioned, “What makes you think HE would even consider helping you?”
“It’s a long shot but I know how bad Salvador treated HIM when HE was growing up,” I shared.
Confused he asked, “What do you mean?”
“Salvador raised HIM after HIS mother died,” I answered.
As soon as the words left my mouth, something clicked.
Realizing I had missed it the first time around, I exclaimed, “HIS mother died when HE was thirteen, she’s dead! She Died!”
Giving me an, ‘okay crazy’ stare, he said, “I get it the lady died.”
Nodding, I thought, that son of a bitch.
I knew exactly what I was going to do. Salvador was so slick but The Office files were impeccably accurate. Constantly maintained, HIS mother should have had (NROF-D) next to her initials. No (NROF-D) meant she wasn’t deceased with no record on file. She was alive and most certainly would have a file. If I was right, that was my way to get HIM on my side.
As Jackson continued to stare at me, I was excited that I actually figured something out on my own. Then, I thought of going to visit HIM and something else occurred to me.
“Jacks we need to find a lawyer that I can trust to draw up the papers for Sophia,” I informed.
Nodding, he said, “I think I know of one, he’s an old friend of my dad’s.”
His expression made me question, “But?”
As if he was unsure how to explain, he shared, “Well he had a kind of unpleasant encounter with your father.” I gave a questioning look before he said, “I remember my dad telling my mom about it. Your father needed a lawyer to look over a contract and he was referred to Mr. Griffin.”
“Okay so,” I said not seeing what the problem was.
Taking a breath, he slowly replied, “Your father was offended and I think the word he used was, moulinyan.”
Embarrassed that my father was that way, I shook my head, saying, “I thought it was just Irish people. Well, at least he was an equal opportunity bigot.”
Never thinking about it before, Mr. Herterand was really the only non-Italian my father associated with.
“Do you think Mr. Griffin holds a grudge?” I questioned.
Smiling, Jackson shook his head, saying, “Nah, and if he did, it wouldn’t be against you. I just wanted you to know. Ya know.”
Rolling my eyes at him, I said, “Jacks, I don’t care what color or nationality he is, as long as I can trust him, we’re good.”
With a wide smile he nodded, saying, “I’ll call and see if we can get in tomorrow.”
With that settled, I stood up.
It wasn’t much longer before Mr. and Mrs. Thomas came back. I hated to leave but I really needed to go back to the house. I wanted to double check the files and I assumed Hert would be more agreeable if I came back. Jackson told me to take his car again and that he was staying the night at his parent’s house. Mrs. Thomas didn’t see the point in my waking Sophia up if I was coming back to return Jackson’s car, assuring Penny was easier to handle with Sophia there. After telling them goodbye, Jackson followed me out to his car.
Standing behind his car, I opened the trunk. Reaching in, he took out his bag and set it on the driveway. I could tell by the look on his face, he had something to say.
Raising an eyebrow, I asked, “What Jacks?”
Smiling wide, he took a step closer, answering, “No goodnight kiss.”
Caught off guard, I questioned, “Did you get a good morning one?”
“Almost,” he replied.
Placing my hand against his chest, I stressed, “You need to stop.”
Making a pouty face, he said, “I don’t want you to go.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s why I should,” I assured.
Seemingly self-assured, he asked, “Then how come you’re still standing here?”
“See you tomorrow, Jacks,” I said before closing the trunk and walking to the driver’s side of the car.
With a wide smile he winked, saying, “Night Ren.”
Watching him jog back to the front door, I wondered why it was so hard for me to say goodbye. Thinking that Jackson not coming back to the house was the best thing for both of us, I was on my way.
Chapter 7
Standing in my closet, I thought of ways to ask Hert if it was okay to pull some files from The Office. Thinking I should have talked to him the night before instead of coming in and going straight to my room, I didn’t want him to say no. Taking a deep breath, I decided against a dress, pulled out a pair of slacks and a blouse, threw them on my bed and decided to just get it over with.
Still in my pajamas, I walked across the hall. Knocking on Hert’s office door, I waited for him to answer.
With no response, I knocked again, asking, “Can I come in,”
Hearing a faint, “Yea,” through the door, I turned the knob and walked in.
Surprised to see Hert still in bed, I just stood there.
“Is everything okay?” he asked in a low tone.
Instantly finding it hard to concentrate, I apologized, “Oh, sorry. I thought you’d be awake.”
Hert sat up looking at the clock. The deep scars across his chest caught my eye as he stood up and made his way to the bathroom.
Why was I still so attracted to him? Irritated with myself, I thought, this is ridiculous. Hert’s scars were selfish scars. There was no selfless act of nobility. He was awarded them while trying to keep things from me. So why did I want to run my fingers down them? Maybe it was because I knew what it felt like to be with him. Or possibly, it was because I knew how much he wanted me. Regardless, the effect he was having on me was less than productive.
As I concentrated on my reasons for coming to his room in the first place, I watched him step out of the bathroom.
Grabbing a shirt out of his dresser, he pulled it on asking, “Did you need something?”
Noticing his slight limp as he walked to the edge of his bed and sat down, I managed to force out, “Uh, yea.”
With a confused expression, Hert questioned, “Well?”
Visually tracing the
scars around his eye that led to his cheek, I asked, “How’s your leg?”
With a suspicious glare, he asked, “You woke me up at five in the morning to ask me about my leg?”
Shaking my head, I snapped, “No,” before saying, “I need some files from The Office.”
Narrowing his eyes at me, he said, “Alright, make a list and I’ll…”
Cutting him off, I stated, “I will pull them myself.”
“If that’s what you want,” he replied.
Watching his jaw flex, I nodded saying, “Thank you, I will be by this afternoon.”
I quickly turned and headed out of his room thinking, ‘what the hell is wrong with me!’
I waited until Hert was gone, to step back into the hallway and head down the stairs. Fully dressed and ready to go, I sat down at the kitchen table with the phone in my hand. I stared at the prescription paper Dr. Chepelli gave me to get ahold of The Brothers. Startled, when the phone rang, it took a few rings for me to answer.
“Hello?” I said before hearing Jackson’s voice cheering, “Morning.”
Smiling at the sound of his voice, I asked, “Miss me already?”
“May-be,” Jacks replied.
Laughing, I said, “I have a few things to do here, then I’m going to swing by The Office before I pick you and Sophia up.”
“I got you an appointment to see Mr. Griffin at two,” he informed before saying, “I’m helping my dad out so if you could, pick me up from his office, then we can go see the lawyer. We can pick up Sofia when we are finished.”
A strange feeling came over me as I agreed, “Sounds good, see you then.”
After he said, “Later, Ren,” I hung up, thinking, I shouldn’t be this excited to see him.
With a heavy sigh, I glanced at the paper and dialed the number on it.
After ringing four times, an answering machine picked up. The message instructed to leave a number only. I did as I was told and hung the phone up. Less than a minute later, it rang.
Suddenly nervous, I answered, “Hello?”
The man on the other end replied, “Mrs. Herterand.”
Unsure of what to say next, I said, “Yes.”
There was a pause before the man questioned, “Can I help you?”
“I hope so,” I answered before asking, “Are you available?”