Boss on Notice

by Janet Lee Nye

  He sank down to his knees and placed the flowers against the slab. Sadie hunkered down beside him and put an arm around him. He shifted to sit cross-legged before the grave, unable to take his eyes off those dates. Twenty-two. She was nothing but a baby herself. He saw Sadie sitting beside him out of the corner of his eye. He was still trying to process this. In his mind, he’d seen his parents as grown-ups. Old enough to know better. But she wasn’t. She’d been just a kid.

  Sadie’s hand found his. “So young.”

  An emotion welled up, weighing down his shoulders and clogging his throat. It took him a moment. Pity. She barely had a life. “I didn’t know she was so young.”

  He was older now than his mother had been when she died. He thought back to himself at twenty-two. He’d found Sadie by then and had his life back on track. He’d only applied for the job so he’d have enough contacts to satisfy the unemployment people and get another check. Instead, he’d gotten a chance at life. A life his mother never got a chance at. Sadie stretched her legs out in front of her.

  The movement caught his attention and his eyes fell on the other grave marker. The numb shock began to wear off as a slow-moving anger filled him. He moved his gaze to read the words there. Gerald Sanders. Born 1965. Died 1993. He stared at it, letting the anger fill him. He climbed to his feet and walked a few paces away, turning his back and stuffing his hands in his back pockets. Goddamn him. He had been old enough to know better. Same age you are now.

  He turned back and walked up to the edge of his father’s grave marker. Sadie rose to her feet and tried to take his hand. He pulled away, perhaps more roughly than he intended. “How?” he said, his voice thick with fury. “How does a man put a gun in the face of a woman, another human, and pull the trigger? Kill the mother of his children?”

  “Josh,” Sadie whispered.

  Too late. His foot rose and slammed down on the marker. “You piece of shit!” He kicked at the marble, trying to dislodge it. He wanted it out of the ground, away from his mother. “Fucking coward. What were you going to do? Kill us all? Shoot a two-year-old baby? You were nothing but an evil monster!”

  With one last kick at the unmoving stone, he collapsed to his knees, breath raging in his lungs. He grabbed at the grass surrounding the marker and ripped it out—roots, dirt clumps and all—then threw it on top of the marker.

  “You don’t deserve to be remembered. You don’t deserve to have your name here.”

  He sat back and covered his face with his hands. Tears clogged his throat but he refused to cry. Sadie sat back beside him, saying nothing, just letting him feel her warmth. Groping blindly for her hand, he felt the rage shift as her hand closed around his.

  “I want to move her,” he said.

  “We can make that happen.”

  “He doesn’t deserve to have her here. She doesn’t deserve to be stuck here beside him. I want her moved to a different cemetery.”

  Sadie squeezed his hand. “We will. Anywhere you want, Josh.”

  The subsiding of his rage left him feeling hollow. He spent a long moment just staring at the ground between the two markers. He could feel his heart beating and hear the sound of his lungs pushing air in and out. Everything else felt numb.

  “I understand what you meant now,” he said quietly.

  “About?”

  “It not making you feel any better.”

  “Right away. It didn’t make me feel better right away, Josh. It took some time for me to work through it all. But it did help.”

  “How do I feel better about this, Sadie? How?”

  “I don’t know, Josh. I’m sorry. All I know is that once I confronted my mother and knew the truth about her and my father, it made me feel worse. The truth was worse than what I’d imagined all those years. Once I’d faced it, sorted it through, I don’t know how to explain it exactly, but there wasn’t any more unknown. I knew the truth. So I only had that one truth to deal with, not a million what-ifs. Does that make any sense?”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  She slipped an arm around his waist and leaned against him. “Let me call Wyatt to come get your bike. Come home with me. I don’t want you driving back to Columbia like this.”

  His first impulse was to say no. To go back to Columbia, throw himself back into work and the distracting temptation of Mickie. Forget all about this. But a feeling of nostalgia washed over him. Maybe he should spend some time with Sadie.

  “I don’t want Jules to know about this.”

  “I’m staying at my place. Come on. It’ll be good for you. I’ll cook spaghetti. You love my spaghetti.”

  He sighed. “Okay. But I can drive the bike back to your place. I’m okay.”

  * * *

  IT HAD BEEN a good decision. He’d seen a few of the Crew guys. Tossed a ball around in the backyard with Sadie’s dog, Jack. Now he and Sadie sat side by side on her couch, feet up, shoveling pasta into their faces. It felt so much like all those long nights he and Sadie would stay up late, trading foster-care stories, laughing and helping each other heal.

  “So, that’s something, right, Josh? That your mother was trying to leave?”

  “Sades, I don’t know. When Mr. Gathers told me she’d said Kimmie and I were getting too old to be around that, I felt... I felt like...”

  His words tapered off, his throat tight, his heart pounding against his chest at the enormity of it all. He hadn’t allowed himself to take his thoughts this far yet. The end of that thought was foreign territory. It was a place he’d never been and he had no idea how he should act or be.

  “What did you feel, Josh?” Sadie whispered.

  He couldn’t answer.

  “That she loved you?”

  The words were spoken softly, tenderly and with a depth of understanding that went straight through him. And because it was Sadie. Because he knew she understood. Because she was safe, he let himself have it.

  “Yes.” His voice broke on the word. Wiping his hand across his eyes, he rubbed away the burning wetness there. His mother had loved him. And his sister. Tried to help them. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. This is pretty heavy stuff.”

  “That’s not even all.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He let out a long breath. “Mr. Gathers. He kept track of us for a while. He knew Kim had been adopted but I hadn’t. So he and his wife wanted to take me. They were going through the process of becoming foster parents when she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer.”

  “Jesus, Josh.”

  A rueful smile crossed his lips at her tone. Once again, Sadie instantly comprehended the entirety of the situation. “Yeah. All these years I thought no one would adopt me because I was a bad kid.”

  “I hate cancer.”

  He set down the plate and paced around the small living room. He felt better. Still completely overwhelmed and not quite sure who he really was anymore, but better. “Thanks for telling me to stay. I’m okay. I just need to, I don’t know...something.”

  “You just need to rearrange your entire set of beliefs about your past and yourself. I understand. Been there, got the T-shirt, baby brother.”

  “Love you, Sades.”

  “Love you, Joshie. Are you finished with your plate?”

  “No.”

  “Jack’s eating it.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THERE WAS SOMETHING WRONG. Not like a little wrong. Big wrong. Mickie eyed Josh every time he came through her little office space in the kitchen. He kept his eyes averted when he spoke to her, even did it with the guys. When required to speak, he used the fewest words possible. He seemed flat. It couldn’t be the visit from the big boss. That seemed to have gone well. Sadie had been very complimentary with everyone. She’d said the business was doing better th
an they had projected.

  So it had to be something else. Something personal. And she wasn’t sure if she should get into his personal business. Since that kiss, she’d been trying to keep it as impersonal and businesslike as possible. But he’d been out of town overnight again. Something was going on. She shook her head. She had a long, hard row to hoe the next two years and she couldn’t allow herself to be distracted.

  The usual Monday morning calls were enough to distract her for most of the morning. Seemed like people heard about the Crew over the weekend and made it their first order of business on Monday morning to get in touch. As she ate lunch at her desk, she focused on her latest obsession: making new index cards from the study notes Tee had given her. If she could get a head start on the work, maybe she could keep ahead or at least keep up.

  The front door opened and she leaned to see who it was. DeShawn strolled into the kitchen and helped himself to one of her potato chips.

  “Thief,” she said, shooing his hand away before he stole a second. “Hands off the Pringles.”

  “Sharing is caring,” he said, snatching another from the neat stack.

  Mickie leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms over her stomach and gave DeShawn a speculative look. “How long have you known Josh?”

  DeShawn opened the fridge and rummaged inside, taking out lunch meat and cheese. “Um. Probably about three and a half years.” He opened and closed a few cabinets until he found the bread. “Why?”

  Mickie shrugged. “He just seemed not quite right this morning. Did you notice?”

  “Yeah.”

  Mickie waited for more, letting the silence spin out as DeShawn made his sandwich. “And?”

  “And what?” DeShawn pulled the chair out from the end of the table and sat. “Josh has some issues. Sometimes he gets a little down. He’ll be normal tomorrow.”

  “He went away over the weekend, but he didn’t say where.”

  “He likes to take the motorcycle out. Probably went up to the mountains.”

  “I don’t think that’s it.”

  “Look, Mickie,” DeShawn said, his voice serious. “Just let it be, okay. Whatever it is, Josh will deal with it in his own way.” He had that way about him, that way of making everything seem okay. It was one of the best things about him. He wasn’t just a great-looking guy, he had an air of decency, of kindness. She hoped something good was coming his way. He deserved that.

  She looked down at the index cards and picked up her pen. “Okay.”

  But she didn’t think it was okay. Issues. Like growing-up-in-foster-care issues? Did it have to do with finding his sister? Had he reached out to her and been rejected? Is that why he was so down?

  “You’re still thinking about it. I can see it on your face.”

  “Go away, DeShawn. I heard you.”

  “Your nurse friend coming by anytime soon?”

  “Bye, DeShawn.”

  She’d started with the pharmacology notes because that class seemed to require the most memorization. Classes of drugs. Systems. Effects. Side effects. Method of action. Contraindications.

  She heard a thump and rumble of something from outside, wondered if it might be the sky breaking up into thunder, but that was ridiculous. Blue skies all around. Her never-too-far-away nerves stirred to life at the unexpected sound before she remembered it was trash day, when the big ugly truck grabbed the apartment-complex Dumpsters and flipped them upside down. It was over soon enough, the sound receding as the truck sped off to its next stop.

  She tapped her pencil on the table and tried to make herself focus on her books again.

  By that afternoon, her head was spinning and her hand hurt from writing. Tossing down the pen, she massaged her achy right hand. It astonished her how much she’d done.

  Not long after, the door opened. This time it was Josh. He looked tired, low, like the day had beat down on him. Should she say something? None of the signals she was picking up from him invited conversation, but, just the same...

  “Hey,” she said as he walked to the hall, each footfall slow and steady. “You all done for the day?”

  He stopped in the hall but he didn’t come in the kitchen. “Yeah,” he said. He didn’t really look at her, just sort of glanced in her direction. “You can go on now, if you want. I can man the phones for the next hour.”

  With that, he turned and went down the hall, closing his office door behind him. Mickie stared at the empty doorway. Go talk to him. No, leave it be like DeShawn said. She slowly packed up the index cards and study guide. Go home, get some chores done before picking Ian up at day care. Yep, that’s what she should do. She nodded and briskly stuffed the study materials into her purse and stood. But something was going on. Josh wasn’t angry. He wasn’t sick. He wasn’t tired. He was upset. Sad. Hurting. Something. She had to at least try.

  Her light tap on the closed door was met with a heavy sigh and an irritated sounding “Yeah?”

  She opened the door and peeked in. Josh sat at the small desk, back to the door. He didn’t turn around. “Josh? Are you okay?”

  She thought she saw his body stiffen at the question but he shook his head. “Yeah, I’m fine. Go on home.”

  “Are you sure? You seem...”

  He spun around in the chair to face her. “Mickie. Go home. Study your index cards and stop trying to turn me into one of your patients.”

  She flinched at the words. The tone of them. It wasn’t angry or annoyed. It was...resigned. “Oh. Okay. Sorry.”

  Cheeks burning, she hurried out the back door. You deserved that. DeShawn told you to leave it alone. Forget about it. She stepped into her kitchen and glanced at the clock. Just a little before four. That gave her an hour to get the floors mopped and rugs vacuumed and bathroom cleaned up before having to pick up Ian. Gave her something else to think about. What’s it matter to you anyway? He’s just your temporary boss. Just two more months. Let him be moody. You can’t cure the whole world.

  Before she could get started, there was a tap on her sliding glass door. Josh. Gah. That man made her feel so stupid. She stared at him for a moment.

  “Come on, Mickie, open the door,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  She crossed the room and slid the door open a couple of inches. “Apology accepted.”

  She started to shut the door but he wrapped his hand around the edge. “What?” she asked.

  “May I come in?”

  She let go of the door. “Suit yourself.” Going back to the sink, she continued filling a bucket with Pinesol and hot water.

  “Look,” he said. He stopped for a moment, hands at his sides, looking utterly defeated. That was a sentiment Mickie could understand, and then some. “I appreciate you worrying about me. But you’ve got enough of your own worries, Mickie.”

  She turned off the water and lifted the bucket from the sink. The sharp pine scent went right up in her nose, burning her nostrils, and she turned away from it. “I can’t help it. That’s what I do, I worry about people.” She set the bucket on the floor and plunged the mop into the foamy water, then gave it a good swirl to mix it thoroughly.

  “That’s why you’ll be a good nurse, I guess.”

  She wrapped both hands around the mop handle. “What’s wrong, Josh? Where did you go? Did you try to meet with your sister?”

  A rueful smile crossed his lips. “No. I decided I’m not going to reach out to her.”

  Mickie studied him carefully. He’d shoved his hands deep into his pockets. His head was bowed and he stared at his feet. A look of resignation. “Why?” she asked softly.

  His head come back up and his eyes met hers. “Because she doesn’t deserve it. She has a great, normal life. She’s happy. I don’t want to ruin it.”

  A thousand rebuttals rose in her mind, but she kept her mouth shut. The
re was nothing she knew about Josh that would ruin his sister’s life. A long-lost brother who runs a successful business? A genuinely nice guy? How could he ruin anything?

  “I don’t understand, Josh. How?”

  He turned away and paced around the small kitchen. “I went to talk to someone who knew our parents this weekend. It wasn’t a nice story. It’s best if she just never knows.”

  She caught his arm as he passed. “Josh. I’m sorry. I don’t completely understand, so if you think not contacting her is the best thing, I won’t argue with you. I just want you to know that if I were in her shoes, I’d be happy to find you.”

  She let go of the mop. It tapped against the kitchen countertop, near the sink, and nearly slid off to the side, but she made a slight correction and it balanced. She walked over to Josh and brought her arms around his shoulders, standing up on tiptoe to reach him. She hugged him because she couldn’t stand the look of pain in his eyes. He stood there like an oak tree in the wind: his core was hard, stiff, unyielding. But she could see the slight movement around his edges. Something slight, she had to look for it, but it was like a rustle of leaves just before a big rush of wind hit hard enough to sway a branch.

  That’s when something in him broke loose and he relaxed against her. His arms encircled her as he pulled her closer and brought his mouth down on hers. There was no hesitation in this kiss. She met his lips with a deep need, plunging her hands into his hair. His hands skimmed up her back, pulling her ponytail loose. In two steps, he had her pressed against the counter, his hands in her hair and his mouth hot on hers.

  Yes. Yes. Forget the housework. Forget being a mommy. Forget about school and money and...

  Josh’s hands cupped either side of her face as he pulled back. She put her hands over his. “Don’t stop.”

  “We can’t do this.”

  “Why not?”

  She pressed her hips against him, letting him know she knew just how ready he was. She was rewarded with a low groan. Sliding her body against his as she rose up on tiptoe, she pressed her lips to his. He gave in to the kiss and his hand, strong and calloused, traced down her back to slip beneath her shirt. She wanted to be naked, needed to be naked against him. She was ravenous.