by Lori Bell
Tate walked up behind her, and he noticed she had the bank records displayed on the computer screen. It was not time for payroll for another week, Tate knew, and he had actually stopped by to get the market’s financial report for the past month. Tate was staring at the screen over her shoulder when Sydney turned her head and looked up. And that’s when she nearly jumped out of her chair.
“Tate! Hi, um, I had no idea you were here.” Lately, he never stopped by, and Sydney obviously had let her guard down. Tate immediately picked up on how frazzled Sydney was. Her face flushed, as she spun her chair around to face him.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Tate told her, as he reached over her to place his hot cup of coffee on the desk and Sydney attempted to completely block the laptop screen with the back of her chair. “I’m only here for that,” Tate pointed at the computer screen behind her.
“For what?” Sydney asked, and Tate chuckled aloud at her nervous state. He had never known anyone who could become so flustered so easily.
“For the books, Syd. I am going to be spending some time hanging out with Edie at the house this week, to keep an eye on her while she recovers, so I wanted to look over this month’s ins and outs.”
“Ins and outs?” Sydney asked, realizing she didn’t ask about her sister.
“The money coming in and going out,” Tate answered her. “I would have called you for the passwords and such, because I can pull up all of it online at home, but I wanted to stop by anyway to see how things are going. I don’t want you to think I’ve left you high and dry.”
“Of course I would never think that. It’s all going well. I hope you’re happy with the job I’m doing. I want to live up to the faith you have in me.” Sydney smiled up at Tate. She smiled with her eyes and her entire face. And he never picked up on the way she smiled, the way she always looked at him. Tate couldn’t see that Sydney had it so bad for him. It was beyond a crush. It was an obsession.
“I’m more than happy, Syd. This is good for both of us.” Us. Sydney focused on that one little word. Tate took out a key-ring from the front pocket of his jeans, and he found a tiny key in the middle and inserted it into the top desk drawer. There were papers in there that had his father’s handwriting all over them. One, alone, had all of his passwords. It was an old school way of doing things, but that was Rex Ryman. Tate pulled out his cell phone and took a photograph of those passwords. The one for the bank was the third number listed, and he thought the others may be useful later.
While Tate closed the drawer and locked it again, Sydney rolled her chair toward the desk and reached for the keys on the laptop to minimize the screen she had displayed. The chances of Tate walking in now were unbelievable, and her heart had finally begun to beat at its regular rhythm again.
“Okay,” Tate said, backing up from the desk, but remaining in the small office with Sydney. “So everything is afloat? Any problems or concerns?”
“Absolutely no worries,” Sydney told him. “Business is steady as usual, and I’m working on the orders for a half a dozen catering dates this month. It’s busy, but it’s all good. I don’t mind.”
“Well I knew you wouldn’t mind, but you gotta make time to have some fun, too. Don’t consume yourself with work. You hear?” Tate wondered if his words would sink in. Edie had never understood. She, in the last two years, had become the most productive and successful account executive in Dover, but all of those days and nights of working nonstop had taken a lot away from their relationship. Tate and Edie could not get that time back, but all he wanted to do now was convince Edie to work less once she was well again. This was going to be a new beginning for them. He still had the engagement ring for her. It was just tucked away in a dresser drawer, and one day very soon, he wanted to put it on her finger and plan for their future together.
Sydney giggled nervously. She never had much of a social life, and her plan now was to work incredibly hard in her new position as the store manager of Ry’s Market. That was going to be her way to get Tate’s attention, not just his appreciation. If he would have been five minutes earlier, Tate would have caught her attempting to delete bank records. It was the only way to hide the fifty-thousand dollar withdrawal from Ry’s account. And, now, Sydney would have to steal another five-thousand from the market’s account. Another thug needed to be paid for showing her how to hack into the online records of Camden Community Bank.
Tate grabbed his coffee cup off of the desk and started to sip it. “So how’s she doing?” Sydney asked him, referring to Edie.
“Pretty good,” Tate responded, but what he really wanted to say was I’m worried about her. But he couldn’t, because the reason he was concerned to the point of being upset was because of Edie’s accusation against Sydney. A part of Tate wanted to tell Sydney all about this craziness from the moment he walked into that office. “You should come over. You know, for a visit.”
“I doubt my sister wants to see me,” Sydney replied.
“And why would you say that?” Tate asked, his curiosity peeking.
“We just aren’t close, you are well aware of that. And, I guess, I’m just tired of trying with her.” Once again, Sydney’s negativity surprised Tate. No matter how often Edie had cut her down or made her feel unwelcome in her life, Sydney always came back. Tate momentarily thought about that. That was exactly why Edie was accusing Sydney of trying to kill her. It wasn’t because Sydney would ever turn on her, it was because of Edie. It was possible that Edie was carrying guilt from their relationship, year after year. And when she was unconscious, her subconscious had spoken to her. Tate sat there thinking, analyzing, and staring past Sydney as he slowly sipped coffee.
“What are you thinking about so intently?” Sydney felt bold enough to ask him.
“Oh, just how sometimes things in life have to be dealt with. Nothing ever truly goes away, no matter how bad we want it to,” Tate attempted to explain.
“I’m not sure I follow you…” Sydney admitted.
“I actually just now am beginning to understand it myself,” Tate replied vaguely. “I’ll fill you in sometime, kid,” Tate said, getting off the desk. “See you soon. Again, stop by the house. We will be there.”
When Tate closed the door, Sydney sat back in her chair and sighed. Kid? I’m not a fucking kid.
And one day, Sydney believed, Tate would see that. She was not taking one risk after another for nothing. It was all for him. For them. For the us that they were going to be.
Chapter 9
When Tate closed the office door behind him, his text alarm sounded on his cell phone. He had his coffee cup in one hand and retrieved his phone from his pocket with the other.
Hey handsome, please bring me something unhealthy from that café if you’re still at the market. You know…like a jelly donut.
An emoji smiley face with a wink followed that text from Edie, and Tate smiled. First, he could hardly believe his eyes. Edie not starving herself or only eating a salad and drinking a glass of wine was a good start. He marched off, through the store, to buy her that jelly donut.
*
When Tate made his way through the mudroom, he untied and slipped out of his boots before moving up the steps into the kitchen, and he instantly saw Edie sitting at the table. “Hey…how are you doing?” He saw that she was wearing her favorite white terrycloth robe, and her hair was pulled up into a knot, high on her head. He also noticed she no longer had her forehead bandaged. He stepped closer, placed the white paper bag with the jelly donut in it, on the tabletop in front of her. Her forehead was still somewhat swollen and badly bruised. Tate was staring when Edie spoke.
“Better,” Edie replied. “My hair pulled up no longer pains me, and as you can see what’s underneath the bandage is nasty looking, but it will heal.”
“That’s my girl,” Tate spoke, as he sat down on the chair next to hers and reached for her hand. And then she reached for the bag he brought with him.
“Let me justify eating this sinful
little thing,” she said, pulling the donut out of the bag and taking a generous bite from it. She chewed gracefully while she spoke. “I figure since I have not eaten for what? Three days now? I can afford these calories.”
“Of course you can,” Tate told her. “Maybe it’s time to give up living on leafy greens.” He winked at her, but he was hardly kidding. He wanted her to give up a lot of things. Working too much. The vengefulness between her and Syd.
“I’ll give it a week,” she told him, but once the doctor releases me to return to work, I’ll have to get back to the gym was well. You know you only want me for my body.” Edie thought she was teasing him, but Tate grew serious.
“Your body is amazing, E. You know that. You also must know that what I feel for you is worlds more than lust and desire. I would never have asked you to share this house, my life, with me if I didn’t love you.” There it was again. That word, that feeling. It terrified Edie more than she would ever admit.
“Awe Tate. You have my heart,” she told him, as she took another bite of the donut, and licked the cherry jelly off of her finger. “Thank you for being here with me. You know I’ll go stir crazy until the end of the week.” Edie still had four days before her doctor’s appointment, which was when she had her heart set on being released to return to normal living. And normal living for Edie was working an eighty-hour week.
After a few minutes of silence, while Edie ate the rest of her donut, Tate spoke again. “I saw Syd when I was at the market this morning. She asked how you’re doing…”
“What did you tell her?” Edie asked him.
“I invited her to come visit you, to see for herself,” Tate admitted.
“I’ll bet you did.” Edie knew her sister would not have come around near as much, on weekends, on holidays, if it hadn’t been for Tate always extending an invitation to her. Edie had called on her sister a time or two, as well. But, not anymore.
“So are you feeling any different about what you thought you saw…and heard…when you were unconscious?” Tate believed Edie’s mindset had changed. The story was entirely too ridiculous to support. She really had no other choice but to drop it. That’s the way Tate perceived it.
“Do you really want to bring this up? Come on, Tate, we have days to spend in this house together. I don’t want to waste it arguing with you.” Edie looked over at him, and at that moment, in her eyes, Tate knew. She had not given up. She was not backing down. She still believed his father had come back from the dead to lead her to some absurd truth about Sydney being a dangerous person. She still felt certain her sister had tried to kill her. Tate took a long, deep breath, and sat back on his chair. He put his arms behind his head, and his elbows were pointing outward.
“I don’t want to argue with you either,” Tate agreed. “I just want you to come to your senses. You are a smart women, Edie. Realize what you are asking me to believe. It’s impossible. It’s absurd. It’s going to destroy the very little bit that’s left of your relationship with your sister.”
“I’m sitting here listening to you and it’s so hurtful to know that you do not believe me.” Edie forced back the feeling of wanting to cry. She was tougher than that. “Yes, I am smart, I am smart enough to know the difference between something that is real and something that is fabricated. I know what happened to me. I saw your father. I witnessed what my own sister did to me. I’m not letting this go.” Edie stood up from the kitchen table, and she immediately realized that she moved too quickly. Her head and the stabbing pain above her eyes alerted her.
She stood still for a moment. Tate was watching her, but he never realized she could have been in pain. He was too angry over this. “So that’s it? You’re going to chase down this crazy notion only to cause other people pain and yourself embarrass-ment?” Tate ran his fingers through his unruly curls and looked up at Edie again.
“I am going to do what I have to do,” she replied.
“Like you always have, huh?” he asked her with sarcasm in his voice. “It’s easy, I suppose, when you don’t love…” Tate caught himself wanting to say more, to express the rest of what he sometimes believed.
“Don’t love what? My sister? I never said that,” Edie defended herself, because right now it didn’t feel as if anyone else would.
“That’s right,” Tate said to her with a look in his eyes that Edie never recalled seeing before. It was anger, stemming from pain. “You never, not once, have said it, have you Edith Carmichael Klein? I have told you in the heat of passion, on a lazy Sunday morning drinking coffee and reading the newspaper, when you’re dressed to the nines, and when you’re fresh out of the shower in your favorite terrycloth robe like right now. I’ve seen the embellished version of you with makeup galore and expensive clothing and fashionable shoes. I’ve also seen the bare bones you. I absolutely love both versions. I love all of you. I am in love with you. Does that not mean a fucking thing to you when I say those words?” Edie was fighting harder not to cry. Her head hurt so badly from the pressure. But, she just couldn’t do it. She would not cry. And she would not allow herself to say I love you back to a man who had given her so much.
When Tate stood up from the table, his chair flew back so fast it tipped over and landed on the tile floor with a loud bang. He just left it when he walked out of the room. He also left Edie standing there alone. She closed her eyes and willed away the unshed tears. It’s not that she was incapable of loving him. She just would not allow herself to.
Chapter 10
Hours went by as they shared space in the same house. Tate knew he would come around. He always did. What was said or done was forgotten, and the two of them went on with their lives together. He was sitting on the top step in the mudroom. He was about to put his boots on and take a walk out to the detached garage. But, now, he just left his boots off and sat there in silence. The last he saw Edie she was laying on the sofa in the living room with her eyes closed when he had walked through the room. Whether she had really been asleep or not, Tate didn’t know or dwell on it.
He looked out of the window that spanned the entire wall of the mudroom. He noticed a car turn onto his lane road, and when it came closer, he saw it was Sydney’s hybrid. Tate stayed where he was as he knew she would use the mudroom entrance to the house. Everyone did. Except for unwanted solicitors. They always walked up those half a dozen wide concrete steps that had no railing on the sides, and up onto the porch to reach the doorbell of the front entrance.
Tate watched Sydney get out of her car. She was always wearing her burgundy Ry’s Market smock, this time with a warm white turtleneck underneath it. She wore that smock like a badge of honor. Tate smiled to himself. She was a character. So unlike Edie.
“Oh! Hi,” Sydney said, as she opened the door from the outside and immediately noticed Tate sitting there. Tate noticed she had gotten a haircut. Her auburn hair, just above her shoulders was wavy and she now had bangs, which he thought made her look somewhat childish. “Are you on your way out? You said I should stop by anytime. I hope it’s okay.” Sydney always could rattle off three or more sentence together that always made Tate stop to think about which question or statement he should address first.
“Come in. You’re fine,” Tate smiled.
“Is my beautiful sister inside?” Sydney smirked.
“You’re being sarcastic, why?” Tate called her out.
“I’m not really, I just know that a nasty bump on her vain head will make her hide out for awhile. God forbid someone would see an imperfection on her…” Sydney’s honesty was harsh, but Tate understood where she was coming from. Always walking in her sister’s shadow. And never feeling the love from her.
“Be nice,” Tate chuckled, “And, yes, she’s inside. Asleep, I think.”
“I’ll go in to see her in a minute. First, I need to talk to you,” Sydney stated. “The bank called. Apparently their online system has been hacked.”
“What the hell? Really? I’m surprised I didn’t get notified,” Tate f
rowned.
“I’m the point of contact for the market now,” she reminded him, and he nodded. “And I told them I would fill you in.” Sydney stood in the middle of the mudroom, with her hands in the pouch-like pocket on the front of her smock. “The market’s money was untouched, but the account’s numbers are screwed up. Apparently the hacker’s attempt shifted withdrawals and deposits without being successful at actually stealing anything. The bank just wanted me to relay to you that it’s going to take awhile for the numbers to show up correctly.” It was lame, but Sydney was so convincing that Tate never second guessed her. He trusted her.
“Oh Christ, how confusing. I have not taken a look at the books yet, but I was going to. Thanks for saving me from freaking out.” Tate shook his head and Sydney giggled with a concealed sigh of relief. She had just bought herself some time.
“Not a problem,” she replied, but it was a problem. Sydney only had so much time to get thousands of dollars back where it belonged in the Ry’s Market account. She had absolutely no idea how she was going to do that, but she did know how to buy time. Tate believed her story. And part of it was true. The bank already became wise to the fact that some of their online accounts had been hacked, and had released a statement to alert its customers. Apparently, Sydney was not the only one playing dirty, as other accounts were compromised too. She was just naïve enough to believe she would not get caught. Hackers went untraced all of the time.
“You can go on in if you want,” Tate tilted his head in the direction of the doorway behind him. He had left the kitchen door open while he sat there.