If Anything Should Happen
Page 11
Rena tore across the room, walking toward that young Kendra as much as toward this one who was her best, maybe her only friend. ‘Oh, Kendra,’ she said, unable to remember the speech she’d rehearsed. ‘Oh, honey. I have some wonderful news.’
SEVENTEEN
My so-called week off never happened. Scott called and said they needed me after all. I thanked Farley, but he said that he couldn’t take credit, and that Carla probably just wanted to scare me. If that was true, it wasn’t working, especially after our meeting with Jerry.
‘We need to talk to him again,’ I said. ‘He and Alex went through that together. I know he’ll tell us more.’
The crazy woman looking for Edith Marie called again that morning. As usual, she was rude. And, as usual, she hung up in the middle of the conversation.
Tamera met me in the station lounge that morning. We had ten minutes after my show and before hers, and she was willing to spend that time trying to help me. The similarity of our situations had bonded us even closer than before, and every time we talked, I felt that I might really be able to find my mother.
I looked at the cheerful print on her aquamarine silk shirt and wondered if that’s why she wore bright colors – so that she would have a little help lifting her spirits. Realizing that made me love her more.
‘Any luck?’ she asked.
I fought to keep the emotion from my voice. ‘The detectives are following up on every lead they can find, but they don’t know anything for sure yet. There are no listed telephone numbers under Trafton in Buckeye. No email accounts in her name either, and nothing I can find with my online searches.’
‘So why don’t we just go there?’ she asked. ‘Why wait?’
‘Because of the ratings,’ I said.
‘You have the blog. Ratings won’t make or break you. Farley’s pushing to keep you here, isn’t he?’
‘Actually, he’s been pretty supportive,’ I said.
‘Not supportive enough. Don’t let him stop you, Kit.’
‘Why are you so down on Farley?’ I asked.
‘Not him personally. It’s just that he doesn’t understand. He couldn’t.’ She shook her head, as if trying to escape a memory. ‘We need to get you to Arizona right away. I’ll go with you.’
‘You’re in ratings too.’
‘I’ll talk to Scott,’ she said. ‘He still feels bad about making me work when my dad was dying.’ She shrugged. ‘Besides, it’s only a job.’
One she was willing to risk to help me. ‘You don’t have to do this,’ I said.
‘You were there for me.’
‘It’s OK. I can handle the trip.’
She leveled her gaze and raised her eyebrows in a way that said she wasn’t buying a word. ‘Tell me the truth,’ she said. ‘You really want to go knocking on some stranger’s door all by yourself, asking if she’s your mama?’
She did have a way of making her point.
‘Not really. But I will if I have to.’
She grinned. ‘That’s my point. You don’t have to.’
‘I’m glad.’ I hugged her, realizing how much I meant it. ‘I only wish you’d found your father while he was still alive.’
Tears welled in her eyes. ‘So do I,’ she said.
‘He would have been proud of the person you are, Tamera.’
‘Don’t be talking that way, or I won’t be able to get through my shift.’ She managed to push me away so that she could look directly at me. ‘You’re my best friend, and I should go with you. Maybe I need to. It might be good for me.’
Farley came out and washed his hands in the aluminum sink beside the coffee pot. He did it every day, as if the show had left a residue he needed to scrub away. He probably wouldn’t like what I was about to say, I thought, so I might as well not put it off, especially now that I had Tamera on my side. He and I had stood in for each other in the past when we’d had to. True, we were in the ratings period now. And if he complained to Scott, the PD could force me to stay. A program director was the law, and I would have to follow that law or leave the job I loved.
As he drew closer, I caught a whiff of the scent left by the ginger-scented suds.
‘Tamera’s offered to come with me,’ I said. ‘To Arizona.’
‘While we’re still in the book?’
‘I think I have to,’ I told him. ‘You know I’m not going to be any good on the air until I resolve this one way or the other.’
‘Even on your bad days, the show’s better than when you’re not here.’ The worried look in his eyes contradicted his calm tone. ‘What about Tamera? Jimmy J will bitch to Scott.’
‘She’s talking to Scott herself.’ I felt guilty and looked away. ‘After the memorial service next Wednesday, I’d like to take a few days off to head over to Arizona.’
He looked as if I’d just turned in my resignation. ‘And what did Scott have to say about that?’
‘I wanted to talk to you about it first.’
‘What’s he going to think, so soon after Carla raising hell about you?’
‘Farley!’ I glared at him. ‘My mom is dead. My mother may be in Arizona. Do you think I care about Carla? Or Scott, for that matter?’
‘I’m not trying to be insensitive,’ he said.
‘And I’m not trying to be difficult. I figured we ought to talk about it first since you’ll be the one who’s affected.’
‘We’ll all be affected.’ He sank down on one of the office chairs, as if I’d let the air out of him. ‘And, yes, I know that shit happens without any regard to when the ratings fall.’
‘You can carry the show.’ I sat on the leather sofa across from him beside an antique clock with neon call letters from the station’s rocker days.
‘What about if you went the week after the memorial service?’ he asked. ‘Then you could take more time. It would be better all around.’
Tamera sat beside me. I glanced over at her. She looked away, but shook her head.
‘I don’t know, Farley,’ I said. ‘So much time has passed already.’
‘But we’re talking about it on the air! If anyone knows anything about your birth mother, they’re going to call here or contact us through your blog or our website.’ His expression grew animated as he began to warm up to this new tactic, and I realized Tamera was right. He was all about the ratings right now. ‘This is probably the best place for you to be. You can see that, can’t you, Kit?’
‘For how long?’
‘What do you mean?’ His forehead began to glisten.
‘For how long is this the best place for me to be?’
‘Until we give it some time. Until we do whatever we can to get the word out.’
‘Until after the ratings, you mean?’ Tamera asked.
We were ganging up now, she and I. I knew it wasn’t fair, but I needed help. ‘That’s exactly what he means.’
‘Are you kidding me?’ he said in a wounded tone. ‘I’ve tried to offer you support twenty-four/seven, and you think all I care about is the ratings?’
‘It’s your job to care. I get that. It’s my job too. You were right about me changing though. My priorities have. And finding my mother means more to me than anything else in my life right now.’ I started to apologize, and then thought, No. I meant what I had said. Unable to think of anything to add to that, I stood and started for the side door.
‘Hold on just a minute.’
I stopped.
‘You may not care about your job any more,’ Farley said. ‘But it’s all I have, and I can’t do it without you.’
I started to say that was ridiculous, but then I realized he was right. We were a team, and our chemistry made the show work. To the listeners, we came across as best friends trying to solve and heal what had been left unfinished. Without me, he would sound too cool, too laid back. Without him, I would sound too passionate and driven. Now that we were just getting the recognition and ratings we had worked so hard for, I had to admit that I didn’t know what I would want to do once I f
ound my mother. If I found my mother.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said.
‘It’s OK.’ Farley stood with a sigh. ‘I’m not completely thoughtless, and I hear what you’re saying. You go, Kit. I’ll just do the best I can.’
‘Wait.’ Tamera stood as well. ‘Kit, if Farley needs you to stay here, why don’t I just go?’
‘Alone?’ I asked.
‘I’ve got the vacation time, and it’s only Arizona,’ she answered. ‘I can scope out the place, and if your mother is really there, and we get some serious leads, you can be on the next plane out. You wouldn’t have a problem with that, would you, Farley?’
‘No, Tamera, I wouldn’t have a problem with that.’ He ran his hands through his surfer boy hair, a casual gesture, but I could almost hear him thinking. ‘Scott might even give you extra time off if we say you’re doing it so that Kit can stay here.’
Tamera raised her eyebrows. ‘That’s not bad, Farley.’
‘Wait a minute,’ I said. ‘I haven’t agreed to anything.’
‘You don’t have to, Kit.’ She moved away from Farley and hugged me. ‘I’m supposed to do this for you, I know it. And I want to. Besides, Jimmy J will love an opportunity to tear it up while I’m gone. Give him a day or two, and the jerk will probably fantasize that he can replace me.’
I felt myself relax. At least one of us would arrive there immediately. ‘I don’t know how to thank you.’
‘I need to get out of this boring place for a while, anyway.’ Her eyes glistened, and I knew she was remembering her own loss and the questions in her life that would never be answered in the way mine still might be.
‘I feel like it’s so much to ask,’ I told her. ‘It’s not as if you have a ton of vacation time.’
‘I think Farley’s right. Scott will let me do it on company time now that we’re putting your story all over the place.’ She wiped her eyes. ‘But I’m on, like, now, and Jimmy J would like nothing better than to have to start the show without me.’
‘Hurry,’ I said, caught in mixed emotions. ‘We’ll talk about it later.’
She pecked my cheek. ‘Consider it done.’
‘I don’t know,’ I said to Farley as I watched her run toward the glass booth.
‘It’s the best way,’ he replied.
‘For us,’ I said. ‘What about poor Tamera having to fly to Arizona alone, just because we’re slaves to the ratings?’
‘She wants to do it.’ He stopped, faced me, and placed a hand on each of my shoulders. ‘Don’t turn against me because of what’s going on in your life, Kit. I’m your partner, and I care about you.’
His words hit home. I squeezed his hands with my own. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘You’re right. I’ve been all over the place.’
‘I shouldn’t have said that.’ He let go of me, cocked his head, and gave me that grin. ‘I know I’m being tough on you. In a way, I feel I’m losing you. Your friendship, I mean.’
‘Just because I wanted a few days off at an inconvenient time?’
‘If it’s not just that, then …’ He started toward the parking lot, and I followed. His black Corvette shimmered under the sun.
‘Still the best car in the lot,’ I said.
‘Want to get a late breakfast? Lunch, maybe? There’s an awesome new Mexican grill not far from here. The cocido stew will make you faint.’
‘I wish I could, but I have to get hold of my mom’s attorney in Washington. He keeps leaving messages, but we can’t connect.’
‘That’s what I meant,’ he retorted. ‘We used to be a team. Now, you won’t even have lunch with me.’
‘Lunch?’ I was angry now that he would be angry with me. ‘You’re worried about lunch when I have to go call my mom’s attorney?’
‘You stopped having lunch with me before your mom died. Something made you stop.’ His gaze didn’t change. And there was nothing I could say back because he was right.
I was still thinking about him after I got home. Why had I stopped having lunch with Farley? Why had I felt crowded? He was my partner, my friend. There’d never been anything between us, but after the divorce, I hadn’t felt comfortable going out with him the way I had before. He hadn’t changed. I had. But my life was too far out of control right now to try to figure out my conflicted feelings for Farley.
Matthew Breckenridge had left another voice message telling me to expect a letter from him. It arrived late that afternoon. I studied it and all the information about my mom’s Trust, which was as conditional as she could be. My inherited amount increased substantially if I had children, while Mick’s would decrease considerably. And if he had children, the money stopped. Although Mick had no desire to start a second family, I wondered if he would resent my mom trying to control his actions from the grave as much as I did.
I rushed through the rest of the attorney’s letter. She had taken care of all the tidy details, right down to her resting place, the attorney wrote, and I wondered if Breckenridge blushed at the cloying euphemism, or if he used it so many times that it seemed natural to him. I was surprised that she hadn’t chosen Lake View, on Capitol Hill, where my grandparents were buried. But no. According to the letter, she had made pre-arrangements – another euphemism, but sadder – at Evergreen-Washelli Cemetery. I knew the place. In the old days, it was on the northern edge of Seattle. Now there was a Home Depot a block away. And a block beyond that, a Lowe’s and a Krispy Kreme.
Still holding the letter, my hand began to tremble. Something about knowing her cemetery selection made her death more real to me. I could remember her taking me to my grandparents’ graves and putting her arm around me when I stopped a few feet from them. I thought that if I got too close, a hand would reach out, snatch me, and yank me inside, and she must have understood my fear.
‘They’re not here, anyway,’ she had told me in a soft voice. And, when she must have sensed my horror: ‘No, that’s a good thing.’
‘Then, why do you come here?’ I had asked, lip quivering.
‘To remember,’ she had said. ‘Places like this give you somewhere to come and remember. Sometimes I even talk to them. You can, too.’
I couldn’t recall the rest of the conversation, only that I hadn’t wanted to talk to my dead grandparents that day and couldn’t understand why she did. I also didn’t understand what she meant when I asked if they could see the lake below the cemetery, and she said, ‘They can see it wherever they are. The location is important to us, not to them.’
Now, her words came back to me. She had been dealing with the loss of her own parents that day, as I was now dealing with the loss of mine. And she was my parent, in spite of my anger and in spite of the questions she’d left me. I remembered her words – ‘The location is important to us.’ And I wondered if she’d chosen her location, as she called it, for me.
While she had tried to explain to me about death, my mom had neglected to mention that her parents were not my biological grandparents. My mom. Elaine. I didn’t even know what to call her now. Nor could I sort out my feelings for her. Once more, I tried to put myself in her place, and again, I knew I could not keep such an important truth from someone I loved.
What my mom had done amounted to stealing. She had taken time I might have spent with my biological mother, my biological family, and I wasn’t sure I could forgive her for it.
EIGHTEEN
Matthew Breckenridge finally reached me that Saturday morning just after I’d watered the lavender, basil, and spindly but promising cherry tomato plants in my courtyard. Holding my phone, I jumped from stone to stone and turned off the sprinkler so that I could hear him better.
‘Sorry we keep missing each other,’ he said. ‘How are you holding up?’
I wasn’t up for small talk. ‘I got your letter,’ I said. ‘I can meet with you later this afternoon, if that works for you.’
‘This afternoon? Of course.’ Then, he hesitated, and that sick feeling that had been with me since my mom’s death returned. I
sat down on a stone bench, not caring that I’d hosed it off moments before. ‘We’ll need to go over the Trust.’
That was the last thing I wanted to talk about. I felt as if I were on one of those moving sidewalks at the airport, and I didn’t know when I’d get off. Meeting with Breckenridge was just part of the journey.
I forced myself to just breathe in the fragrance of the herbs and everything else living and growing in my garden and reminded myself that all of this would be over soon.
‘Kit?’ he asked. ‘Are you there?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I’ll see you then.’
Matthew Breckenridge was waiting in my hotel lobby when I arrived in Seattle about two hours later. I checked in and then joined him at a table lit by Swarovski crystal lighting.
We shook hands, and I was glad we were keeping our dealings formal. I didn’t need anything to disturb my already unstable emotions. He was an ageing hawk-eyed man, who, in spite of his slight stoop and too-bushy eyebrows, was attractive in that way that came only with true self-confidence. His manner was relaxed, as if he had just come from the golf course, which, considering his polo shirt and casual pants, he might have.
Only the legal-looking briefcase attested to the fact that this was not a social visit.
‘Cupcake?’ He nodded toward a display on a nearby table. ‘They serve them every day.’
‘No, thanks.’ I took a chair next to him. ‘But you go ahead.’
He patted his middle. ‘I’d better not.’ Then he sighed, as if trying to decide how to begin. ‘How are you doing?’
‘Not very well,’ I said.
‘I understand, and I wish we didn’t have to discuss business right now.’
‘We don’t have a choice. Please go ahead.’
‘Your mother was a successful woman,’ he began, ‘and as you know, we were close personal friends.’
‘No, I didn’t know that.’ I breathed in the sweet pineapple scent of the cupcakes and told myself I would not get sick. ‘Unfortunately, I knew very few of her friends, Mr Breckenridge.’
‘Breck,’ he said. ‘Please call me Breck.’ He sighed, and then continued in a professional tone. ‘Elaine had an investment account, something she started when you were born. No one knew about it, not even your … not even Mick Doyle.’