Full Circle

by Dillon Watson

  “Talked to her on the phone. She told me about the s—crap flying around here. What’s up with that?”

  “You know.”

  “Guess I do.” Pat plopped down on Mikaela’s desk. “What I can’t figure out is who these morons are who are buying you needing to get on your knees to get that job. Do we really have that many stupid people working here?”

  “Apparently fewer than they thought.” She told him about her string of visitors. “Wait. You wouldn’t be one too?”

  “There, there.” He patted her on the head. “I had to be out. Why not swing by, see how a friend is doing?”

  It was exactly something he would do. “Thanks. You know I’ve probably used that word five hundred times today.”

  “Last I heard you don’t get charged for it. And if so, I’ll take up a collection. Charge money to hold Emma.”

  “My car made me stop by the cookie place. I ate one, so—Pat! And Emma!” Talya gave him a shoulder bump and thrust the bag of cookies at him. “Eat.” She put down her briefcase, flung her coat over the desk and held out her hands. “Gimme. Ooh, red hair. She’s really grown since I last saw her. Eye color?”

  “Jury’s still out on that. I think blue, Laura thinks gray.”

  “Either way, she’s a little sweetie pie. Yes, you are.” Talya kissed Emma’s mostly bald head.

  “Before you ask, Laura’s at the spa being pampered,” Mikaela said.

  “What does she think about going back to work?” Talya asked. “I remember her talking about going back part time after a month.”

  “That was B.E., Before Emma. Now she’s going for the full eight weeks, maybe even part-time for a month after that.” Pat reached for one of Emma’s fingers. “It’ll be good for our girl.”

  “Agreed. When I had Jason, six weeks was the norm. I had to push to get eight and my boss at the time was not very happy with me. Thank God things have changed. What about you? You want to extend your leave beyond the three weeks?”

  “I need to build up leave time for emergencies, so I’ll be back Monday morning.”

  Talya gave Emma another kiss, sighed and then passed her to Mikaela. “There’s plenty of work waiting for you.”

  “I hear you’ve sort of taken over for Brannon. Any talk of a merger?”

  “A few days ago I would have said no. Now all I can say is nothing is outside the realm of possibility. Good to see you, Pat.”

  “If we do merge it’ll be because of what she’s done,” Mikaela said after Talya was in her office. “She’s been busting her butt.”

  “Well, I’m excited. More possibility of cross training and promotions. Not that all of us need it from what I hear.”

  “Wipe that smirk off your face. How many times do I have to tell you people no decision has been made?” Mikaela gave in to the lure of the cookies, then passed the bag back to Pat. She wanted company with the fat and the sugar. “Yum.”

  “And still warm.” Pat devoured his cookie in two bites, then eyed the bag.

  “Have another one,” she urged. Lord knows it would save her ass. “Hey, any interest in being co-captain of the MLK Jr. Service Day team next year with yours truly? I’ve got big ideas.”

  “Only if I get a say in selecting the project.”

  “Deal.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You’re looking better this morning.” Casey removed the cup from the coffee machine and handed it to Mikaela.

  “Feel it. Good night’s sleep, exercise out of the way and”—Mikaela paused for dramatic effect—“Sara for dinner.” She added artificial sweetener and cream to the coffee and took her first sip. “Feel even better now. You know you’re welcome to dinner?”

  “Already have plans.” Casey lifted her cup in a toast. “Suzette wants to go to Pool, then we’re meeting some of her friends for dinner. I’ll be late, if at all.”

  “Shameful. And on a school night.”

  Casey grinned. “I know. I’m sure you kids will have fun too.”

  “Dinner and movie only.” Mikaela rummaged around in the fridge and finally settled on low-fat yogurt. She had two cookies to atone for, thanks to her sadistic boss. “I’m introducing her to the joy of Toy Story.” She grabbed a spoon, then closed the silverware drawer with a hip. “What’s the eye roll for?”

  “All the movies we have in this house and you’re going for a kiddie movie? That’s sad.”

  “Your opinion. Wrong as it is.” She spooned in yogurt, thinking of the great evening she was going to have.

  “God, you are in a good mood. You’re humming and I know it’s not because of the yogurt.”

  “Am not.” She frowned. Okay, maybe she had been humming. It was appropriate. She had plans with a sane, gorgeous woman. “You should be happy I’m happy.”

  “After dealing with that storm cloud hanging over your head Monday night, I’m positively ecstatic.”

  “Was I that bad? Don’t answer that.” She finished her yogurt and rinsed the spoon. “I’m off to divide and conquer. If you hear of butts getting kicked on Peachtree, think of me.”

  “Don’t forget to take names.”

  “Don’t you worry. The Three, or I guess they’re down to The Two, are in my sights.”

  Her good mood followed her downtown and put pep in her step as she fought the headwind from the bus stop to her office. And yes, she hummed.

  Sara wasn’t in the lobby, and in some ways, not seeing her made the anticipation for the evening sweeter. Mikaela squeezed on the elevator and only stopped humming when she caught on to the sideways glances she was getting. She imagined there was some relief when she got off on seven.

  The humming faltered and then stopped when she saw the meeting notice from Dennis. It had been sent after seven the night before, and it was a mood killer. Grumbling about lies and old biddies, she accepted.

  “I thought you would be in a better mood.” Talya rushed in and placed a muffin on Mikaela’s desk. “It’s no fat and no sugar, so it’s okay.”

  Mikaela didn’t see how anything could be okay with no fat and no sugar, but she thanked Talya all the same. “Care to tell me about this meeting I have with Dennis in forty minutes?”

  “That’s nothing to worry about.” Talya waved her hand dismissively. “An update to let you know what’s being done. I thought this morning would be a good time for that.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Why?”

  “Thought you’d feel better after all the visits yesterday.”

  “I really did. Do. Was that your doing?”

  “I think Tasha and Gerri, but don’t quote me.”

  “As long as it wasn’t forced.”

  “Trust me, no one wants to make the situation any worse than it is.”

  “Tell me Bill’s not in trouble with the higher-ups.”

  “Talk to Dennis. I’ve already said enough.”

  Mikaela watched her go and leaned back in her chair. Bill must be okay or Talya would have said something. If he was okay, then perhaps she would be okay too.

  “Morning.” Gerri walked in, wearing a dark blue suit with the thinnest of stripes and carrying her coat over her arm.

  “Don’t you look spiffy.”

  Gerri preened. “Talya’s taking me to her morning meeting. Gotta look the part.”

  “Mission accomplished.” She debated mentioning yesterday’s visits and decided to let it go unsaid. “You need anything before you go? I’m heading up to meet with Dennis.”

  “Something else come up?”

  She shook her head. “Strictly an update.”

  “Let me know. I’ve got my ear to the ground and nothing else has been said as far as I can tell. You’ve got to know by now you have support out there.”

  “Yeah, thanks to you.”

  “You’d do the same for me and anyone else. That’s why most know this is bull.”

  * * *

  Sara smoothed back her sweat-soaked hair and unlocked the front door to her apartment. She had to admit the wor
kout with weights and forty minutes on the elliptical machine had taken some of the edge off what she classified as Anticipation Times Two. Now she only had a couple of hours to fill until dinner with Mikaela.

  Her cell chimed as she stepped aside to allow Tab to enter. She checked the caller ID and almost dropped the phone. She hadn’t heard from her cousin Russell Thomason in almost a year. Obnoxious as he was, he was sort of family. “Sara.”

  “It’s Russell. Bet you’re surprised to hear from me.”

  “How did you get my number?”

  His laugh sounded forced. “Long story. Listen, uh, some lawyer type is looking for you. Something about your dad.”

  “My dad? You got a name, number?”

  “Hang on. It’s here somewhere. Walter Tibbs. Works with some law firm up north. You know him?”

  “He leave a number?”

  “I gave him yours. I mean, I guessed you’d want to know since it involved your dad.”

  “You remember the name of the law firm?” There was more rustling of paper. She figured she should be glad he’d bothered to write anything down.

  “Well, seems I don’t. I bet you could look him up on that Internet.”

  “Gotta run, get ready.”

  “Wait. You think this may be about an inheritance? Mom always said your dad’s family was rolling in it.”

  What Sara remembered was her aunt’s bitterness that she’d never gotten her hands on any of that money. “At this late date? Get real. More likely to be a scam.”

  “Oh. Let me know, will you? We’re family, you and me.”

  “Family? Right.” She doubted he’d catch the sarcasm.

  “That’s right. Family. Got two kids now. Can always use extra money.”

  “Who couldn’t?” She ended the call thinking like mother, like son. Her Aunt Liddy had always been chasing a handout—from the government to the jerks she picked up regularly and even from her kids and Sara when they got to working age.

  But the moneygrubbers weren’t the issue here, she knew. The mysterious Mr. Tibbs was. She was going to be forced to get Internet access and spare herself the trips to the library. Though even the Internet couldn’t tell her why he was calling or what his connection to her father was. It could give her a number, though, and then she’d call him. That would be better, more proactive.

  As she showered, Sara considered the possible reasons for the lawyer’s call. The only information she had on her father was from Aunt Liddy, who’d never met him. And since he’d been estranged from his family at the time of his death, she was suspicious of a call at this late date. Some guy was probably trying to pull a fast one, make her think there was big money if only she’d send him a deposit. If he thought she was as gullible as her cousin, he was in for a big surprise.

  A couple of hours later, butterflies dancing on her nerves, Sara picked a cat hair off her nicest jeans. She’d paired them with a colorful sweater she’d been told brought out the blue in her eyes. Not too casual and not too formal. Perfect for a date that wasn’t really a date, and yet it wasn’t only two friends getting together either. Her insides fluttered. Whatever it was, she was looking forward to spending time with Mikaela, hearing more of her crazy theories about the world. Looking forward to peering into those bright eyes and seeing if they could be more than friends.

  She pulled on her heavy coat and grabbed the bouquet of flowers and the bottle of wine she’d picked up on her way home from work. Due to her inexperience with dating and its rules and regulations, it had taken her far longer than it should have to decide on what to take. In the end, impatience with her indecisiveness had forced a choice, and she still wasn’t certain she’d made the right one. Telling herself what was done was done did nothing to calm her nerves on the short drive over.

  Mikaela buzzed her in right away and was waiting in the doorway when she crossed from the visitors’ parking spaces. Her heartbeat sped up. Mikaela had let her hair down and changed into a dress that was casual and at the same time sexy, the way it flowed around her curves. “Hi. Uh, I picked up some things,” Sara explained and passed the bouquet and wine to Mikaela.

  “You didn’t have to, but I love it. Come on in.”

  As Sara stepped over the threshold, images of what they’d been doing the last time she was here flashed through her mind and were quickly squashed. She wasn’t here for that, as enjoyable as it had been. This time they would talk, get to know each other. Maybe share a kiss at the end of the evening. To be on the safe side, she stuck her hands in her pockets.

  Mikaela led the way to the living room and pointed to the sofa. “Have a seat. What can I get you to drink? I have water, ice tea, Coke, beer, wine.”

  “Coke is fine.” She lowered herself to the sofa and tried not to remember what they’d done to each other in this room. Getting to know her, she reminded herself, and looked around the room, seeing what she hadn’t that other night. The furniture was meant for comfort with the overstuffed couch and matching chairs, the sturdy end tables and the decorative wooden trunk that passed as a coffee table. The big-screen TV hanging on the opposite wall was on, the volume low.

  “Here’s your soda.” Mikaela set the can on a coaster, then slid it over in front of Sara.

  “Something smells good,” she commented as Mikaela sat down beside her.

  “Baked chicken in a balsamic and herb vinaigrette. I saw the recipe in a magazine at the doctor’s office. I hope it’s as good as it smells.”

  Sara smiled. “Oh, so you’re one of those page rippers?”

  “Guilty with extenuating circumstances, Officer.” Mikaela batted her eyes. “No pen and paper handy, and I knew I wasn’t going to remember. What else could I do? And I wasn’t the first one to remove a page.”

  “Oh well, then, that makes it okay.”

  “Glad you agree. Now if the magazine had been in perfect condition I would’ve paused a moment or two before ripping out the page.”

  “Then it’s definitely the doctor’s fault for tempting you.”

  “Exactly.” She squeezed Sara’s leg. “You get it.”

  “A toast then.” Sara touched her can to Mikaela’s. “To understanding.”

  As Mikaela laughed, a buzzer sounded. “Be right back.” She was back a moment later. “Let’s move this party to the kitchen.”

  Sara grabbed both of their drinks and followed Mikaela. Good, she thought, as she entered the brightly lit kitchen. A room we haven’t had sex in. The small table was already set with the flowers she’d brought as a centerpiece. “Can I do anything to help? I know my way around a kitchen.”

  “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a cook,” Mikaela said. She gave her a considering look.

  “My work history is long and varied,” she explained. “I think last count is three, no, four restaurant jobs over the years. From dishwasher on up.”

  “Yeah? What else have you done?”

  “What haven’t I done. A couple of years ago I was a nanny for this rich couple’s miniature poodles. Talk about indulgence.”

  “Get out!”

  She laughed. Mikaela’s expression was priceless. “Not kidding. I watched the dogs during the day while the couple was at work. We played, took walks, went on doggie playdates, got doggie massages. Blew my mind all the things that were available for dogs to do, all the things my charges did. Plus I made extra money staying overnight when the parents went out of town. I was more than a little sorry to let that job and the doggies go. They were sweet in spite of their parents.”

  Mikaela transferred the chicken to a platter and began to carve. “What happened?”

  “Nothing really. I was ready for a change of scenery.” She stuffed her hands in her pockets and rocked back on her heels, unwilling to admit she’d been afraid of missing something if she didn’t keep moving. “I don’t like to stay in one place too long. Always looking for something new to do, learn.”

  “Where all have you lived?”

  “Most of the big cities, like New Yor
k, L.A., Miami, San Francisco, Chicago and the like. I spent a year in Vegas and discovered I had a knack for blackjack. That wasn’t so good since I worked for a casino. Never made it to Hawaii. I kind of developed this thing about flying after 9/11. If I can’t drive there, I won’t get there.”

  “I’ve only lived in Boca Raton and Atlanta. But I’ve lived in six different neighborhoods since I moved here…well, I won’t say how many years ago.” Mikaela smiled sweetly.

  “Don’t ask, don’t tell, right?”

  “You do pay attention. My grandmother always said never reveal your age. That way you can never get caught up in a lie.” She placed the platter with the cut-up chicken on the counter between the bowl of colorful tossed salad and the bowl of bowtie pasta. “Dinner’s ready. Hope it’s okay to eat in here? Since it’s the two of us.”

  “Fine with me. Where’s your roommate? Casey, right?”

  Mikaela nodded. “She has plans. Meeting the girlfriend’s friends for the first time as girlfriends. We’ll do this buffet style because there’s not enough room for the food and plates on that table.”

  Over dinner Sara found herself sharing more stories of the jobs she’d had over the past sixteen years and the cities she’d visited.

  “When’s the last time you made it back home to Oklahoma City?” Mikaela pushed her plate to the side.

  “I haven’t.” Sara once again didn’t correct Mikaela about Oklahoma City being home. “No good reason to yet. I keep thinking one day I’ll go back, see if the zoo is as good as I remember. Visit the monument and pay my respects.”

  “Were you there when the bomb went off?”

  She shook her head. “April nineteenth, two thousand and five. I wasn’t anywhere near there, but I didn’t have to be to know someone who was affected by it. One of the girls I used to hang out with sometimes in high school worked in the building. Her two daughters were in the daycare center.”

  “People suck sometimes.”

  “But what can you do? Gotta live.”

  “Amen to living ’cause the alternative sucks.”

  “Right again.”

  Mikaela flexed her arms. “Two for two.”