Dakota Blues Box Set

by Lynne M Spreen

  “Were you able to escape without her noticing?”

  “She spotted me right away. Came over and asked if she could sit with me.”

  “And you told her to fuck off, right?”

  “No. We talked.”

  Jessie muttered a curse. “I don’t want to hear it.”

  “I’m just going to tell you something important that she said. That bit won’t hurt you.”

  “I don’t care what she said, and I’m disappointed that you would speak with her. You know she’s a risk to my family and me.”

  “I don’t know that. And neither do you. Please. Take a breath and sit down.”

  “You talked to her, because why?”

  “Jessie, I’ve known her since elementary school.”

  “That doesn’t obligate either one of us.”

  I went silent. She’d either calm down, like the heartfelt girl I remembered from Key Largo, or I’d give up. I didn’t intend to die on this hill. Sandy and I were never friends. She was wild in school, while I was quiet. We had nothing in common and didn’t care for each other. I owed her nothing now.

  But she was a human being who was suffering and asked me to deliver a message. I’d done that. Whether I continued to labor on her behalf remained to be seen.

  Jessie sat down. “You have to understand. My mother’s marriage was a disaster. To make herself feel better, she co-opted me. She made me her best friend. I had to listen to her complaints and fears. She cried to me when she was hurt. She convinced me to give Dad the silent treatment when she was mad at him.”

  “That’s pretty awful.”

  “Once, when I was twelve, she took me with her on a stakeout. We parked outside a woman’s house because Sandy thought he was having an affair. These thugs tried to get us to roll down our windows or unlock the door. When we didn’t, they smashed our windshield with a baseball bat. Sandy was so rattled she almost wrecked the car getting out of there. I found out later she’d been drinking.”

  “The icing on the cake.”

  “Look, I don’t want to revisit that time. I have a good life, and she’s not part of it. That’s healthy for me. I’m not going back to being codependent.”

  “Okay, I get that.”

  “Fine.”

  “But.”

  “Karen!”

  “Just hear me out. I understand what you’re saying. You need to protect yourself and your family. But you haven’t seen her for, what, about eight years? I think if you are going to decide to keep her one hundred percent out of your life, you need to do it consciously, and be fully aware of the cost. There is one, whether you can see it now, or not. People make mistakes, but sometimes they grow beyond that.”

  “No chance of that with her.”

  “You won’t know until you hear what she has to say. I suspect you might be swayed by her arguments. Why don't you at least meet her somewhere and let her make her case? You can say whether or not you will allow her to participate further.”

  “No offense, but who are you to be saying this to me?”

  “Nobody at all, kid.” Now it was my turn. “I got stuck in the middle of you two, and she asked me to carry a message. And yes, I am of her generation, so maybe I understand more. I’m not smarter. Just older. But do whatever you want. I did what I promised.”

  “I need to get to work.” Jessie stood, pushed the chair in, and held onto the back of it, chewing on her bottom lip. “I realize this isn’t your fight, and you were just the messenger. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

  “It’s okay.” I’d been through worse in my life, but her comment had cut me.

  “No, it’s not. It seems like lately all I do is apologize to people I care about and keep hurting. How can I make it up to you?”

  “Not necessary. I know you’re under a lot of pressure.”

  Jessie’s face lit up. “I know. Come see where I work.”

  Luring me with the world of business. How well she knew me. I gave in. We got in her car and drove across town to the office park from which her company operated.

  The first thing I noticed was the music. There was energy, a vibe, as soon as we walked through the office door. Next, I was struck by the neatness of the place. The cool air smelled like lavender and citrus.

  We heard singing, and a girl rolled up on a hoverboard. She wore a royal blue hoodie, denim leggings under a leather mini-skirt, and ballet flats. “Hey, boss. How’s it going?”

  “Good.” Jessie introduced us. “Did you get that last shipment sorted?”

  “All done. Wanna go over it now?”

  “A few minutes. Let me just get settled.”

  The girl rolled away, and we sat in Jessie’s office. “I gave everybody boards for Christmas because our warehouse is so big. In a minute, I’ll give you the tour.”

  I studied the office while Jessie checked and replied to emails and phone calls. Her voice was warm and relaxed. Several times, she laughed out loud. I was impressed by her facility with numbers, and by the way she could do calculations in her head. All the while, staffers were coming and going, interacting with her, receiving advice and encouragement.

  What a long way my girl had come. I was so proud of her.

  During a lull in the action, she looked at me and said, “Let me show you around.”

  We wandered down a wide hallway, past a couple of individual offices, a photo and design studio, a user experience/technology utilization area, and a break room. Jessie pushed open one of two heavy double doors to a space the size of a small hangar. Desks lined the near wall. A clothing rehab area with ironing boards, steamers, and sewing machines filled the next third of the room. Beyond that was a loading dock. Young women were unloading and sorting bins of unfolded clothing. Many rolled around on boards, and they all talked into headsets.

  “This is big time,” I said.

  “We did a million two last year. And the best part is, I’m having a blast.” She took me to the dock area.

  “When the truck arrives, we sort the clothing into three categories. Donate, fix, and upgrade. The first is a write-off, the second is minor profit, the third is major. That's our vintage line, and that's for the specialty garments you can’t find anywhere else. That’s our big moneymaker.”

  “What you did in Key Largo for the CRS ladies.”

  “They gave me my start. I had this dream, and they helped me realize it. Remember how Doc and Patty used to help me do staging and photography? They still come out and train my people when necessary. I just had them out last fall. They stay in town at a fancy hotel.”

  “That’s generous of you.”

  Jessie made a face. “Well, they’d rather stay at my house, but that’s not really possible.”

  We were both thinking of the dogs.

  “I’ve hired three shoppers who go to high-end auctions around the country. If we buy right, we can boost the good stuff by at least fifty percent. There's money to be made if you know where to look. My team does.”

  We went back to Jessie’s office. While we talked, people came in and out, some on the boards, asking Jessie for guidance. She answered them, on the phone and computer while carrying on one or two face-to-face conversations at the same time. She never got distracted or confused, never lost her train of thought.

  When the din subsided, she leaned back in her chair. “So, what do you think?”

  “I think you’re amazing. Really proud of you.”

  “But I have a problem, and you can help.”

  “Me? How is that?”

  “You’re a headhunter, right? So first, I need a new temporary staffing firm, and I don’t have time to vet the half-dozen here in Denver.”

  “You have a lot of flux in workforce demand?”

  “No, but I like to work the temps as a way of auditioning potential new hires. People I can convert to permanent if I need to.”

  “Okay, I can do that.”

  “Also, I want to offer an employee assistance program to my staff. It’s been on my to
-do list for a while, but, well, you’ve seen my life. Can you help me?”

  “Of course.” I’d designed EAPs for clients for years. Finding a ready-made service should be pretty easy.

  We stopped talking as a couple of young women came in to show Jessie some spring dresses that had been obtained in bulk from a manufacturer.

  “He put in the wrong kind of zipper,” said one girl. “Now he has to liquidate the entire line. We can have them all for half off!”

  “Aren’t they cute?” said the other girl. She held a dress up to her and did a slow, graceful turn.

  “Get him down to a third, and we’ll take them,” said Jessie.

  “That’s really low.”

  “He’ll never go for that.”

  “Tell him we’ll include his company’s name in the promo,” Jessie said. “He’ll bite. Keep me posted.”

  The girls discussed strategy as they left.

  “Jessie, I have a question for you. Why is Jared there at all?”

  “He and Ryan go way back. Jared was down on his luck, so Ryan hired him to take care of the yard. Then Jared started bringing home dogs and stopped taking care of the place. He got weirder and weirder, and I complain, but Ryan—it’s like he’s reluctant to cut the cord, you know? We both know Jared will end up homeless with a pack of dogs to take care of.”

  “So offer to find homes for the dogs and help Jared find work.”

  “We don’t have time for that, and anyway, I don’t like to be alone with Jared. That’s part of the problem. I think Ryan and I are both a little afraid of him. But if we say it to each other honestly, we’ll have to face reality.”

  “But honey, it’s your home,” I said. “And you have to think about Sunshine and Christopher. They can’t even go outside.”

  “I know. I’ve yelled and screamed about it, and I hate that. I’m not a screamer. Or didn’t used to be.”

  I’d never seen that side of her, either, until now. “Look, I’ll help you find somebody for inside the house, but I don’t know what to do about Jared and the dogs. What?” Jessie’s face was scrunching up like she was about to cry.

  “It’s just that—what a nightmare—there’s this dinner party coming up. It’s a bunch of investors Ryan wants to pitch for a business startup he’s working on. If we don’t get rid of the dogs and clean up the yard, nothing I do on the inside will help.”

  “You could have the dinner after dark and shuttle them from the gate to inside the garage,” I said.

  Jessie didn’t smile.

  “Okay, I’ll see what I can do.” Jessie gave me enough information to get started on her employee search. We drove home, talking about hiring all the way. It felt good to help, and also to flex my professional muscles. I’d spend a lifetime developing my skills and had to admit I was pretty good at finding staff. In the middle of all that internal chortling, my phone beeped.

  Sandy was texting me.

  Any luck?

  I held up the phone to Jessie.

  “I don’t need this now,” she said.

  “I can tell her to forget it.”

  Jessie drove another mile in silence before heaving a great sigh. “She can visit and explain herself, and I’ll let her see the children, briefly.”

  “Why don’t you text her that?”

  Cursing, she swerved to avoid a plodding driver and gunned it. “Because you two cooked this up. You can handle it. Tell her tomorrow afternoon.”

  I texted Sandy.

  She texted back immediately. Thanks.

  I glanced over at Jessie. Chin high, she stared intently at the road.

  THAT EVENING, I HAD to grapple with my own problems. I’d been anticipating a video call from my cousin, Lorraine. The original plan had been to include Aunt Marie, who’d been excited about the new technology—to her, anyway—and the prospect of seeing each other while we spoke. I had my laptop all ready at the appointed time. I waited. And waited.

  Fifteen minutes later, my phone rang. Lorraine was calling from work. “The partners have a big day tomorrow. I need to help get things ready.” She had me on speaker. I could hear her typing. “We’ll try again some other time.”

  “Wait,” I said. “How’s Aunt Marie doing? The last time we spoke, she was evasive about her health.”

  Lorraine hesitated. “Why do you say that?”

  “She acted like there was something I wasn’t supposed to know.”

  Again, a pause. “Well, she had a little setback. We were at the ER a couple days ago, but she’s fine.”

  I grimaced. “It’s her heart, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, you know, that’s old news. But the doctor said she’s in fantastic shape for her age. They got her stabilized, and we brought her home and had dinner, and everything was fine.” Lorraine was typing again. “So let’s do the video call another time, okay?”

  Silently, I counted to ten.

  “Are you still there?” asked Lorraine.

  “I am.” Heart attacks ran in the family. My own mother—Aunt Marie’s sister—had died of one.

  “She’s got the alert bracelet. We’d know if anything happened.” Lorraine spoke to a coworker. “Listen, I really have to go.”

  We promised to talk soon. I clicked over to my calendar. I wanted to return to North Dakota as fast as I could, but I’d promised to find help for Jessie. I would have to work fast.

  Chapter 21

  WHEN THE DOG PACK BEGAN barking and howling, I knew Sandy had arrived. I wondered why nobody had thought to corral them in advance of her visit—but maybe it was intentional. I looked out my window, curious how she’d navigate all the paws and slobber. She pushed open the door of her Jeep, petted the closest dog on the head, and said something to him. The dog turned and walked away, leading the others. I couldn’t believe my eyes. She closed her door and studied the house.

  I went to greet her, but I wasn’t the first. Ryan, Sunshine, and Christopher stood behind Jessie as she opened the door. Standing there in the afternoon light, Sandy looked lean and fit. She wore black slacks and a pink car-coat, with a purse hanging from her shoulder. Her face was open, her gaze direct, as if ready to accept whatever punishment her daughter chose to mete out.

  “Please come in.” Jessie greeted her with all the warmth of a visit from the IRS.

  Sandy spotted Christopher and Sunshine, and her gaze softened. Christopher ran in circles yelling. Sunshine simply gazed upward at this unfamiliar visitor.

  Jessie herded the five of them into the living room. Sandy recognized me with a slight nod.

  “You made it,” I said with a careful smile.

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Christopher! Stand still and be quiet,” shouted Jessie. Sunshine was pulling on her mother’s sleeve.

  “What?” Jessie leaned down while Sunshine whispered. “I am about to tell you that. Children, this is Mrs. Larson. She is a friend of mine.”

  I’d never heard Jessie use the word “children.” It was always kids or rug rats.

  Sandy bit her lip. Then she produced a big smile. “Hello, Sunshine. Hello, Christopher.”

  “How do you know our names?” asked Sunshine.

  Jessie turned on her heel. “I’ll show you the children’s playroom. We can visit there.”

  The kids walked rapidly to their room, each wanting to get there first. Jessie followed them, and Sandy and I brought up the rear.

  Ryan disappeared down the hall toward his office.

  In the playroom, Christopher fell to his knees beside a pile of plastic dinosaurs and began pushing them around with a toy bulldozer, making chugging noises. Sunshine stood in front of a bookcase, leaning sideways to read the titles. Jessie walked to the far end of the room and took up her position on an upholstered bench. Her legs and arms were crossed, her gaze unblinking.

  Sandy and I stood in the doorway, not knowing what to do with ourselves. Sandy had a rigid smile affixed to her face, and I saw her hand trembling as she grasped at the shoulder strap of her purs
e.

  I wondered if anybody would notice if I snuck away to the kitchen for a glass of wine.

  Sunshine looked up at Sandy. “Mrs. Larson, do you want to read a book with me?”

  Sandy gulped and nodded. She crossed the room to the bookcase.

  “I like Amelia Bedelia. It’s a chapter book, but I’m a really good reader,” Sunshine said. “You can read this out loud if you want.” She sat on the floor.

  Sandy sat cross-legged next to her and opened the book. “Start at Chapter One?”

  “Yes. I read it before, but it’s okay. I like it a lot.”

  Sandy began reading, her low voice almost a whisper at first, but gaining power and animation. Christopher, following them with his eyes, increased the sounds of dinosaur demolition. It began to interfere with the reading.

  Pausing, Sandy said, “Would you like to read with us?”

  Jessie started to say, “He doesn’t—” but the boy went over and sat between Sunshine and Sandy, and the reading continued.

  I went to the kitchen and poured a glass of wine. Outside, Ryan was directing Jared, who whistled, gathering the dogs. The wine, a crisp varietal, went down easy, and I closed my eyes and savored it, grateful to be able to leave the room. I disliked knowing I’d put Jessie in this awkward position. Yet I felt compassion for Sandy.

  Ryan came in and told Jessie the dogs had been put away, in case the kids wanted to play outside. Immediately, Christopher and Sunshine came blasting down the hall and ran out the back door to the yard. They were extra loud and animated, owing perhaps to the novelty promise of a trip outside, and the presence of a kindly visitor who might be inclined to push them on the swings. Sandy, her footsteps silent, followed the children outside.

  Jessie closed the door and turned to us. “This is too weird,” she said. “I’m so stressed out.”

  “Looks like everything’s going okay,” said Ryan.

  “Want me to pour you a glass?” I started to get up.

  “No, I have too much work to do and I don’t want to get sleepy. Besides, I need to keep an eye on them. Her.”