Until he kisses me.
That’s the only aspect regarding him that makes my heart go wild.
And that’s the way it should be.
MORNING
COURT’S OFFICE is cold.
Not cool, cold.
I’m glad I brought my sweater.
The atmosphere is tense waiting for Jared to arrive. Susan knows we are expecting him.
I love how Court approached her when we walked in a short while ago. He picked up his mail from her desk, then said, “Shelby and I will be in my office. We’re expecting Jared, so send him in when he gets here.”
We’re.
Love this.
Don’t love the situation, but I love that we are handling it together. Together we’ll push through. I know Court has way more at stake here than I do, but there’s no bigger stake than Court’s heart, which I have a stake in.
So, what’s important to Court is important to me.
Even though I’m prepared to see Jared, I still jump when the door clicks open and he walks in. His eye’s narrow when he sees me, indicating he didn’t expect me to be here.
He thinks I’m the enemy after his job.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
If I thought the office was cold when we walked in, it’s now about to form icicles if it were possible.
Jared looks at Court. “I didn’t know Shelby would be here. Do you need to rub it in more? Choosing your girl over your best friend?”
Court sits in his chair and motions for Jared to sit in one of the two chairs across the desk. As Jared sits, I do too, and I notice he scoots his chair away from me.
I’m confused by his blatant disregard for his friend and the situation. He has written checks and deposited them in his account, yet he’s acting like Court and I are the enemy. Of course, he doesn’t know that we know.
Courts taps his fingers on the stack of copies we printed from the bank.
The evidence.
“Jared, this is a hard conversation to have with you. But it’s one that must be had. I don’t know where to begin, so I’ll let you look at these papers, then we can talk.”
Jared’s guard is fully on as he picks up the papers Court has slid across the desk. I watch Jared carefully as he looks at them. Body language and facial expressions can reveal so much.
And my stomach knots at what Jared is revealing.
Shock, surprise and confusion.
His expression clearly shouts he knows nothing about these checks.
Nothing.
“I’ve seen this vendor pop up recently in the books and I’ve been meaning to ask you about them. I was puzzled as to what type of media we were adding and why.” Jared’s voice holds an honesty that can’t be denied.
Court leans forward in his chair, and I watch the two of them, like a drama unfolding.
“You see we’ve printed the check copies from the bank. You see we know you put those checks into your bank account. I’m disappointed.”
“Jared didn’t put those checks in his account.”
Both men turn to me as I speak. Both men have equally surprised looks on their faces.
“He’s been framed.”
It’s written all over Jared’s face.
“Framed?” Court asks.
“You believe I’ve been framed?” Jared asks, swallowing hard like he’s just accepting that fact.
I stand. “I could tell the minute you looked at those checks you didn’t have a clue as to why you were sitting here. Somebody forges your signature very well, though.”
“Janice.”
Jared speaks that one word and it’s like we all sigh the last puzzle piece into place, revealing the bigger picture. But there are still many unanswered questions.
Court’s eyes glisten, reminding me of my father’s that day in the RV. Jared’s demeanor is no longer as guarded and the icicles have melted into a heap of water we’re all trying to wade through.
“Why would Janice put the money in your account? With all the money issues you’ve had lately, the money can’t still be there.” Court has stood now and is pacing his office.
“There’s something you need to know, Court.” Jared shoves his hands in his pockets, his GQ look rumpling and wrinkling fast.
“What?”
“Janice is MaryLeigh’s daughter.”
I watch everything about Court shatter until his hands grip the desk for support. “Daughter? Impossible.”
“I wish it were. I wish I had told you sooner.”
“Jared. She can’t be. It’s physically impossible. How old is Janice?”
“Eighteen. MaryLeigh had her when she was sixteen.”
Court, still steadying himself with the help of the desk, rolls his eyes momentarily, like he’s doing the math.
Pain, anguish, confusion is written all over Court’s face. He shakes his head like doing so will shake these insinuations into place. “Who exactly was MaryLeigh Rigby, Jared? Because I don’t think I knew my wife at all.”
Court’s gaze steels as the icicles threaten to form again. “But apparently you did.”
THE SUBJECT OF the forged checks falls to the back burner as Jared tells Court about Janice. How MaryLeigh had gotten pregnant by a local boy, refused to tell the boy about the baby, claiming it was somebody else’s.
“She knew if she owned up to that baby being Joe Campbell’s he would have insisted on marrying her. The last thing MaryLeigh wanted was to live in Jocelyn, North Carolina, the rest of her life.”
“And this Joe believed her? About the baby not being his?”
“He didn’t at first. Was pretty insistent, but lucky for MaryLeigh there had been a hoity-toity city guy that had been in town for a while, and she did cozy up to him. He didn’t take to her in the way she wanted, which was a way to hightail it out of town, but nobody knew that. The right words and right memories were convincing enough for Joe to back off and leave MaryLeigh alone. MaryLeigh pretended she found Jesus, gave the baby up for adoption, then proceeded to make a totally new image for herself.”
“And you never thought any of this was important to tell me.”
“Come on, Court. I was under her spell same as you. And of course I wanted to tell you, but she swore me to secrecy. Besides, I didn’t think you’d end up marrying her. Man, you two started dating and bam, before anybody knew what was happening, you two were hitched.”
“Yeah, she was quick to get me to the altar.”
“After that, it seemed it was all water under the bridge so to speak. You guys were happy. I’d never seen her so happy.”
“She was happy, all right. I’d never seen a person change so much in such a short time. All these things I thought I knew about her, I didn’t know at all. But I adjusted.”
Never have I been so glad to have come clean with somebody in my life. I can’t imagine keeping my past from Court now. After all he’s been through regarding MaryLeigh and with the revelation he received today. My slate with Court is clean. I have nothing to hide from this man.
“She was happy, Court,” Jared says. “And when Janice came to me and told me her story, I couldn’t turn her down. I thought I’d help her out for a little while with a job, then when she was on her feet she could get a better job and she’d be gone.”
“I don’t even remember what she looks like.”
“She favors MaryLeigh, but not like Bristol and Darling. But still, when I knew you were coming around, I’d send her off on an errand. I didn’t want you to make the connection.”
“Well, I didn’t. And now look at this mess. She even switched the letters of your name around to make up this fake company. I still don’t understand where the money went if she put it in your account. Not only did you not notice it was there, it’s not there anymore.”
“That’s not as surprising to me as it is to you. Apparently Janice is a lot like MaryLeigh in that I was sucked into Janice’s web. She was doing great at the job, so when I complained about paying bi
lls and such on a personal level, she offered to do that for me as well. I gave her online access to my bank account so she could pay my bills.”
“Wow” is all I can say.
“Yeah. As much as I like handling monies on a corporate level, managing my own bank account seemed insignificant and nothing but trouble. I was more than eager to hand it over to Janice when she offered.” Jared shrugs his shoulders then nods toward Court’s computer. “Do you mind? I can look at my account now. We’ll have some answers.”
An hour and a half later we had all the answers. Janice had deposited the money into Jared’s account then the next day sent it out to creditors. One transaction paid in full for a nice double-wide trailer.
JANICE HAD ESSENTIALLY embezzled a house.
Incredible!
She had also pilfered some of Jared’s money, starting with small amounts, but as the months went along, the amounts got bigger.
“What do we do now?” Court asks after we are sitting down, amazed at all Janice has done. “No matter the circumstances, I can’t prosecute MaryLeigh’s daughter. I just can’t.”
“Then you can’t turn it over to your insurance company to recoup the money,” I offer. “They’ll want their money back and prosecute her.”
“Then it’s settled,” Court says. “We’ll take this as a loss. A huge loss. We’ll let her go, of course, but Jared, get with her. See what she needs. I don’t ever want her to want for anything.”
“Do you want me to tell her you know about her? Who she is?”
Court doesn’t answer immediately. If I could see inside his mind, I bet I’d see dozens of wheels going in different directions. I’m still in shock at all that has been discovered this morning. I can’t imagine how Court is truly feeling.
“No. Not right now. She has enough going on and she’s obviously overwhelmed. Tell her you discovered the checks. Hire the best therapist available and tell Janice that if she goes for help, the company won’t prosecute her. Tell her to keep in touch. I take it the baby’s father isn’t in the picture.”
“Nope. Long gone. Doesn’t even know about the baby. At least that’s what she says.”
“Okay. She might need some help then. Make sure you don’t lose sight of her.”
Jared stands and leans against the wall. “I never would have let her hurt you, Court. You or the girls. You have to know that.”
Court looks at his friend. “I do know that.”
“Yet you somehow thought I would embezzle money from you. I have to be honest. That hurts. Right here.” Jared balls his hand into a fist and taps his heart.
“I’m sorry.”
Jared walks over to the desk and picks up the check copies. “You let these pieces of paper override years of friendship and trust.”
Court locks his hand behind his head. “You’re right. I let what I was seeing blur what I knew was the truth.”
I wonder how much of a part I had in that. Was I quick to judge Jared? Were his smooth ways and good looks suspicious to me because of my recent past with Dale?
Cringing on the inside, I hope I didn’t push Court to judge Jared unfairly. Of course, with my black and white mentality at times, once I saw that signature on those checks, I had only one verdict in mind.
“I went to your house that day, a few weeks back. I knew something was up when I saw the financials on your desk. And the copies of the checks. I thought you were showing Shelby everything because you wanted her to take over. But I was trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. What is it your mom always says, Court. What truth does your mom live by?”
Closing his eyes for a moment, Court shakes his head and opens his eyes. “You have to have faith. But you know I don’t live by that.”
Jared walks to the door and opens it. He looks at Court, then looks at me. Jared once again focuses on Court. “Maybe, for everybody’s sake, you should.”
He closes the door, leaving Court and me alone.
Alone with revelations from the past that have the power to change the future.
MISUNDERSTANDING
I PICK UP THE girls from Jenny and Stephen’s right after lunch. It feels like I have worked a week already.
And it’s only been a morning.
The girls are rambunctious once we return home and yet they reject my offer to swim.
“We don’t want to swim.” Bristol scrunches up her nose. “We want to do something else.”
“Like what?” I ask.
Team Twin look at each other, and I notice a look passing between them. A look that means they know what’s going on.
A part of me is scared at what they might come up with.
“We’ll be right back.”
I wait in the kitchen for them to return. When five minutes pass, and they don’t, I start to become concerned. But before I can act on it, I hear them call my name.
“Shelby! Come back here.”
Their tone doesn’t sound frantic. It sounds excited.
Wondering what they could be up to, I walk into their room.
And stare.
Each one of them is holding a brush.
An actual hairbrush.
Chills race up my arms at the sight.
“We tried to brush our hair, but it’s kind of hard. Can you help us?”
Fighting back tears, but not a smile, I walk to the girls. “Sure. Who’s first?”
“Me,” Bristol says, shoving her brush at me.
We all sit in the middle of their room. Bristol sits right in front of me, and I start at the bottom, slowly working my way up. Slowly being the operative word. I’ve said I’m sorry more than once at tugging her hair, and she’s repeated it’s okay just as many times.
Darling watches wide-eyed and curious.
“Mommy loved to brush our hair.”
Bristol’s words confuse me. “She did?”
“Yes. But we didn’t like her to.”
I continue to brush, not commenting. It’s dangerous territory for sure.
“Maybe you can be our mommy now.”
It’s all I can do not to turn into a puddle on the floor. Keeping the pace of my brushing going, I hope I don’t let on how her words have affected me. I know I love Court, and I know he loves me, but achieving a lifetime together takes more than those three words.
I run the brush from the top of her hair to the bottom and the full beauty of her dark black hair amazes me. It drapes to the floor and is as thick as molasses on a hot day.
“Beautiful,” I whisper.
“It is?” Bristol asks.
“I want mine to look like that.” Darling hands me her brush. “My turn.”
Bristol’s demeanor has changed as she sits and watches me brush out Darling’s hair.
“Have you guys ever heard of Locks of Love?” I ask.
“What’s that?” they ask.
“Someday, if you decide you ever want to cut your hair, you can donate what they cut off to an organization called Locks of Love. They make wigs for children who have cancer.”
“Cancer?” Bristol asks. “That’s what Mommy had. That’s why she died. She had cancer.”
“I know,” I reply. “The kids that have to have chemotherapy need wigs so when their hair falls out they can still have hair if they want to.”
“Oh,” Darling says. “It’s like when we put the toys in the box. We were helping kids who didn’t have any toys. And our hair can help kids who don’t have any hair.”
“That’s right.” For some reason, Darling’s hair is a little easier to brush. Maybe I have more skills having already brushed my way through Bristol’s hair. Either way, it takes half the time. But her hair is just as beautiful. Since they did wash their hair last night, it’s still clean.
“Girls. Let me take your picture.”
They stand and I watch their hair fall elegantly past their waist. Their faces look lighter, like a weight has been lifted.
I take a picture with them smiling, then I have them turn around and tak
e one from behind.
“Beautiful. Your daddy is going to be so surprised.”
It’s all I can do not to text the photo to Court, but I want to see his face when he sees his girls’ beautiful hair.
“I know how we can really surprise daddy.” Bristol has an I’ve-got-an-idea look on her face.
“How’s that,” I ask, sliding my phone back in my pocket.
“We can donate our hair to the kids with cancer. Like Mommy. Remember how happy Daddy was when we gave the kids our toys? He’ll be happy that we want to help the kids with cancer.”
Darling looks like Bristol has just announced the best idea ever in the world. “Yes. That’s a great idea.” Darling looks at me. “Can we? Can we surprise Daddy?”
“Please?” Bristol begs.
“Yes, please?” Darling begs even louder.
Court was pleased with the girls wanting to give away their toys to an organization that helped other kids. But this is a little different. This is their hair. “Girls, I know you want to surprise your dad, but we really should ask him first. This is a big step for you guys. Have you ever had short hair?”
“No. But Phoebe does and it looks really nice. We like it, don’t we, Darling?”
“We do. Please let us surprise Daddy.”
As much as I want to be a part of what I know would be a great surprise, I can’t imagine taking them without asking Court. “Girls, this is a huge step. I’ll text him and ask him if it’s okay if you cut your hair. We won’t say how much. He’ll still be surprised, I promise.”
The girls look disappointed, but I know it’s the right thing to do. So I text him that the girls want to cut hair for kids with cancer.
I have to wait less than a minute for a response. “Sure. Sounds great.”
I smile. “We’ve got the go-ahead. Are you girls ready?”
“Yes!”
After a quick call to Phoebe’s mother, Teresa, to find out where their stylist is located, we drive over.
The girls become more nervous as their turn approaches. When the stylist, Robin, learns they want to give their hair to Locks of Love, she fawns all over Team Twin.
An hour later, with two bags of hair ready to mail off, we exit the salon. The girls’ hair is cut in the same style, a bob just below their ears.
Rich in Faith (Richness in Faith, Book 3) Page 20