Spying on the Boss

by Janet Lee Nye

  “What am I going to say?”

  “I can think of a strong opening.”

  “Josh.” Lena twisted in her seat. “Shut up if you aren’t going to even try to be helpful. See, you made her cry. Happy now?”

  Sadie lifted her head from the dashboard. She wasn’t crying, she was laughing. This was why she had wanted him to come. Lena, with her warm motherly support, was going to be most helpful in the aftermath. Josh knew she needed armor to face the demon. She couldn’t walk up to her mother naked. She needed her shell.

  “Maybe something along the lines of ‘So, how’s your life been while I was passed around from home to home?’”

  Josh leaned over the car seat. “That’s good. Or, ‘Hey, did you really think an eight-year-old was adoptable?’”

  “Stop it, both of you.” Lena popped her door open and turned to Sadie. “Ready?”

  The fear came back, slick and slippery along her limbs, making her clumsy as she fumbled for the door handle. The sunshine and warm air seemed wrong against her clammy skin. Josh climbed out of the backseat and put an arm around her shoulders as Lena walked around to her. She took Lena’s hand and lingered for a moment in the shelter of their love.

  “Remind me why I’m doing this.”

  “Beats me.”

  “To face her. To face your fears. To move on. To be free.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  She seemed unable to move. She wanted to walk into the park with her head held high. A confident, successful, happy woman. She wanted to prove her mother’s lies and abandonment hadn’t meant a thing. Hadn’t stopped her from achieving what she wanted in life. But it had. It had colored every relationship she’d ever had. Josh walked Sadie away from Lena. He turned her to face him and gripped her upper arms. He bent to look into her eyes. “Head up. Shoulders back. You do this, Saff, you do it right. You walk up to her weak, she’s going to be able to excuse her own weakness. She is here to explain herself to you. You walk up. You listen. You walk away. Deal with what she says later.”

  “Stop trying to talk her out of this.” Lena was next to them.

  He held up a finger. “Stop it. You don’t know what you are dealing with here. I do. She’s going to do this. But she’s going to do it on her terms. Not yours. Not her mother’s. Hers.”

  “And you know what those terms are?”

  “Better than you do.”

  “It doesn’t matter. This is about Sadie.”

  “Will you both shut up? Like this isn’t hard enough?”

  The irritation helped. She clung to it. Clung to the heat of it, the energy that pushed her to action. She drew in a deep breath and lifted her hands to the sky. “I’m going in.”

  Suck it up and deal. But her old standby was failing her as she walked alone down the path toward the gazebo. The fear crept back in, nibbling along the edges of her confidence. The anger that had burned out the fear began to fade. Neither her heart nor her lungs seemed to want to function normally. Both stuttered and flailed in her chest like fish on dry land. She wondered if her decision to meet her mother alone was a mistake.

  Grant stood and lifted his hand. A tall young man with dark hair. The joints of her body seemed strangely loose and she paused along the path, unsure if her hips and knees would follow the proper sequence for walking or if she was about to fall face forward into the crushed oyster shell.

  The woman sitting on the bench rose. Her mother. No. Never mind. This was a massive mistake. The rush of emotion paralyzed her. Her mind seemed to float free of her body. Leave. Turn around and walk away. Now. Her body was no longer accepting commands from her brain. She could only watch, every color and movement hyperexaggerated, as Grant gently squeezed the hand of the woman and walked toward Sadie. And now her mother was turning, turning in torturous slow motion. If this were a horror movie, this would be the moment where the monster hidden inside the human would reveal itself. Slimy, scaly. Razor sharp teeth. A sound startled Sadie out of her runaway thoughts and she realized it had come from her own throat. Half moan, half whimper, it served its purpose of slamming steel back into her spine. She pulled her gaze away as Grant approached her.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hi,” she squeaked out. She studied his face, looking for herself there, but found nothing.

  “Emmie looks like you,” he said with a smile. A warm hand squeezed her shoulder. “I’m going to let you talk to her. We’ll meet up again another day.”

  “Okay.”

  She couldn’t seem to spit out more than one word at a time. Grant walked away and she turned back to her mother. Show no weakness. Show no fear. The two women stared at each other. Grant had said she resembled her mother, and she supposed she could see why. The same dark hair. Hers was cut so short it was impossible to tell if they shared the wild curls. Same fair skin. Same height and slim build. A smile bloomed and died on the woman’s—her mother’s—lips, and her hands clasped at each other. How does it feel? To look upon your living past? Am I your worst nightmare?

  Soon she was close enough to see they shared the same cheekbones. But not Sadie’s Cupid’s bow lips and dark blue eyes. Good. She wanted to be her own person. Like Athena, she wanted to have sprung fully formed into this life.

  She stopped and the silence spun out as they stared at each other. The fear she could see in her mother’s eyes helped calm her own fear. Fear meant she knew she’d done wrong. Now seemed a very bad time to try to suss out exactly what she wanted from this meeting, but only now did her mind find a moment of detached clarity. She knew exactly what she wanted. As a child, she’d assumed, as children do, that everything was her fault. Her mother stopped coming to see her, turned her back on her, because there was something wrong with her. As an adult, she knew this wasn’t true. Intellectually. But the rejection had stained her very soul. She didn’t need anything from this woman. The child she’d been did. She needed to hear the words spoken aloud.

  “Hi.” It was a stupid, lame opening, but better than staring at each other until dark. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and resisted the urge to scuff her foot through the oyster shell gravel. “I don’t even know what to call you.” Womb donor?

  “You can call me Dawn. Grant says you go by Sadie?”

  “No good nicknames for Sapphire.”

  A rueful smile crossed Dawn’s lips. “Can we sit down?” After they’d sat—as far apart as possible—on the bench, she shook her head. “Sorry about the name. I think I did better with the others. Although only Ruby uses her real name.”

  Sadie shrugged. Dawn turned with one knee drawn up on the bench and her arm stretched along the back. An open, inviting position. Sadie didn’t feel invited.

  “Why exactly are you here?” Dawn asked.

  “Grant wants to know me. I’d like to know him. But I didn’t want him to have to lie to you or his sisters.”

  “And you want nothing for yourself?”

  Sadie turned a hard gaze on the woman beside her. “I think I was three when I learned to expect nothing from you.”

  Dawn’s relaxed, confident pose crumbled. She turned her head. Her jaw clenched and her throat worked. She drew in a deep breath and let it out. “I deserve that.”

  Sadie remained silent. She was not going to ask for it. It was going to be offered freely or Dawn could go to hell. An unexpected calm settled over her.

  “I guess you want to know why. That’s what I’d want to know.”

  Dawn reached out to take Sadie’s hand and Sadie pulled hers away. No.

  “I was young. Stupid. Too stupid to have a baby. I should have given you up right away. But my parents—I was a saint compared to them. I thought I could do better.”

  Sadie looked around the park. Josh and Lena were sitting on a bench on the other side of the expanse of lawn. They were watching.

 
“I was drinking and drugging. I wanted to get it together and get you back. But I never could. And when I finally understood and faced what drove me to use, I found out I was pregnant again. I panicked. I thought they’d take Grant away, too. I thought if I said they could put you up for adoption and I moved away, they wouldn’t come for him.”

  Sadie let the words sink in. She tried to imagine it. Young, stupid, addicted. She’d known plenty of people like that in her life. Statistically, she should have been one of them. So that’s what it came down to. Immature stupidity. Josh turned on the bench and she could feel his careful watchfulness. She kept her eyes on him.

  “How old was I when they took me away?”

  “Six months. I owed a drug dealer money. I didn’t have it. He said he’d take sex instead and I said no. He turned me in for revenge.”

  Sadie tried to imagine life if she’d been left in the care of a woman running up tabs with drug dealers. Wouldn’t have been a pretty childhood. So, lovely, a scumbag drug dealer got you out of a horrible situation and into a bad one. Awesome. She leaned forward, propping her forearms along the length of her thighs, and stared down at the ground.

  “Who’s my father?”

  The long pause following the question was the only answer Sadie needed, but she let it play out. She was going to force Dawn to say these things out loud.

  “I’m not sure. I was so messed up, Sapph... Sadie. I’m sorry. It was a guy I met at a party. I can’t even remember his name.”

  “What are you sorry about?”

  “Looking back on it now? I’m sorry I was so selfish. I’m sorry I wasn’t ready to get myself straight. I’m sorry I couldn’t admit it to myself and let you go. I’m sorry I didn’t sign you up for adoption right away. I’m sorry I lied to you and made you promises that were only meant to make me feel better.”

  Sadie straightened. That was it. That was all she could stand to hear. She stood to leave but Dawn caught her hand.

  “Can you forgive me?”

  “Not right now. Tell me something else. Did you really sign me away because you were afraid of Social Services? Or did your new baby daddy not know about me?”

  Dawn’s fingers went cold against her palm before her hand fell away. Her face went even paler and a desperate fear and pain filled her eyes. Ah. There it was. The truth.

  “He didn’t know. He didn’t want kids. But I was pregnant, and we were going to try to work it out. And we did. He loved Grant, and has been a great father. I wanted to tell him. After I saw what a great dad he was going to be, I thought about telling him and seeing if we could get you back if you hadn’t been adopted already. But I was afraid.”

  “Because you didn’t want to jeopardize your new life.”

  Dawn looked away, twin streams of tears running down her cheeks. The tears didn’t move her. She’d cried her share. She waited.

  “Say it, Dawn.”

  Dawn shook her head slowly and wiped at the wetness on her cheeks. “I thought about you every day,” she said in a choked, hoarse whisper.

  A harsh laugh rolled out of her throat. “Well, that makes everything better, doesn’t it? Say it!”

  From the periphery of her vision, she saw Josh stand and take a step in her direction. She lifted a hand to signal him to stop. He stopped but remained standing.

  “Yes,” Dawn hissed out, turning her head away. “I was finally sober. I had a good man. I had a job and a home and a new baby I could take care of properly. I couldn’t risk it.”

  Thank you danced on her tongue, but Sadie bit it down. While she was grateful for the raw truth, she wasn’t going to thank this woman for giving her what she’d deserved all her life. She walked away. She needed no more from this woman. Now she could stop looking back. Concentrate on the future. Maybe she could try to talk to Wyatt again. See if a spark could be stirred from the ashes. If he even wanted anything to do with her after the mess she’d made of everything.

  * * *

  THE CAR RIDE home was quiet. Sadie pressed her forehead against the window, watching without seeing the landscape roll by. She could feel Lena’s worried glances. Josh sat unmoving in the backseat. It wasn’t what they thought, she wanted to say. It wasn’t her mother. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she felt a languid sort of exhaustion oozing through her. In the Crew parking lot, Lena wrapped her fingers around Sadie’s wrist. “Are you really okay?”

  Sadie scooted across the expensive leather seat to hug her friend. Her best friend. The sister of her heart. “Yes. I am. This was good. Thank you. I just need to decompress. Process it all.”

  “You’ll call me if you need me?”

  “Promise.”

  She kissed Lena’s cheek and climbed out of the car. Josh got out of the back, his eyes dark and suspicious. He leaned down to look at Lena through the car window. “I know we don’t always get along, but thanks for this. Thanks for being there. You’re a good friend.”

  Sadie would have given anything to see the look on Lena’s face right then, and she suppressed a smile. “You, too,” Lena said. They watched as the BMW pulled out onto Savannah Highway, heading toward downtown and Lena’s luxury condo overlooking Charleston Harbor. Sadie slipped her hand into Josh’s and tilted her head at his vintage Harley. “You have the spare helmet with you?”

  “You want to take a ride?”

  “If you’ve got something else going on...”

  “Nothing. Where you want to go?”

  She lifted her shoulders and let them drop. “Don’t know. Somewhere. Anywhere.”

  Thirty minutes later, Jack had been let out to do his business, Sadie had slathered herself with sunblock and put on boots, jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt, and she clung to Josh as he guided the bike through traffic, heading south. She’d ridden with him a few times before. Short rides around the block. Today she felt the need to escape. Sitting on the back of a powerful machine, feeling the rumble of it beneath her, the sound of the engine filling her ears and the feel of the wind they created rushing over her washed away her tension and fear and anger.

  They stopped at the last traffic light before hitting the long stretches of country roads leading to marshes and quiet barrier islands. Sadie undid the straps on her helmet and put it between her thighs. Josh looked over his shoulder at her. “Just for a minute,” she yelled in his ear.

  He must have understood because when the light turned green, he gunned the bike in an explosion of sound and speed. Sadie tilted her head back, feeling the wind lift her hair and the sun on her face. Traffic was light and Josh continued to increase their speed. She pressed forward against him. “Keep it steady,” she yelled.

  She sat back, trailing her hands from the death grip she kept around his waist up to his shoulder blades and let go. The bike wobbled a bit with the change in her position as she held her arms up over her head. The wind rushed over her, beating at her arms, making her work to keep them aloft. Her hair flew up and back, strands whipping against her face. A deep, primal scream rolled up out of her lungs only to be snatched away by the wind. It felt good. So good. Josh gunned the bike and the speed, the hint of danger, the rush of it all sparked something vital and alive in her. She screamed again. Screamed out her fury at her mother. Her anger at herself. Her grief for Lito. Her confusion over Wyatt Anderson. Her throat felt raw but her heart beat strong. The scream turned into laughter and she leaned forward to hug Josh around the waist and press her cheek against his back.

  He slowed as the bike passed from the bright sunlit fields into a dark corridor of oaks that formed a tunnel over the narrow country road. Josh pulled the bike over at a small picnic area.

  “Feel better?” he asked as they sat on the picnic table. There was a short, low dock over the creek where a couple of old men tossed out shrimp nets with practiced grace.

  “Yeah. Much better. Thanks.”
>
  “You going to tell me about today?”

  She shook her head. Not that she wouldn’t tell him, but that she wasn’t sure she had the words.

  “She was so pathetic, Josh. I wanted to be mad at her, but she was small and pathetic. Her excuses were stupid. Her admission was petulant, like I was supposed to understand. It was still all about her. Her problems. Her life. Her needs. Her wants.”

  “Did you expect different?” His voice was soft, warm.

  A long sigh escaped her lips. “No. I guess not. She wasn’t as scary as I thought. Just a person.”

  “So that’s good, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Silence spun out. Josh threaded his fingers through hers. “Are you sure it’s just your mother?”

  Her mouth opened to deny his implication but the words dried up in her throat. She shook her head and took Josh’s hand. “I remembered something. Well, remember isn’t quite right. I’d never forgotten, I’d just never let myself think about it.”

  “Tell me.”

  A bitter bark of laughter accompanied the sting of tears in her eyes. Shame burned through her gut. “I feel ashamed, Josh. Why am I ashamed of myself about something I did when I was a stupid kid?”

  “And how old were you?” he asked. His body relaxed and he bumped his shoulder to hers.

  How he could do that, she’d like to know. Turn it off. Shut it down. Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe he walked around with the same fears and pain she did. “You know I love you, right, Josh? No matter what? Anything you need, anytime.”

  He pressed back. “I know, sis. Just...let’s not go there right now. Tell me what you think you have to be ashamed about. It helps me to help you.”

  She sighed. “It’s so stupid. When Dawn signed away her parental rights, I was eight. I was living with a family in Mount Pleasant. I was the only foster and they had two other kids older than me. I don’t know why, maybe something my social worker said, but I thought they had adopted me.”