by Liz Kelly
“Leaving you a clear path to stab your cold-hearted talons into Brooks’ unsuspecting back.”
“Well,” Vance said, stepping forward with a broad grin. “If this isn’t quite the lovers’ quarrel.”
The two who had come to a standstill with their faces mere inches apart, stepped away from each other with utmost haste. Tansy resumed her seat at the desk, straightening her blotter and touching the bounty of red Sharpies sticking out of a pencil holder. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” she said contritely. “It won’t happen again.”
Vance shook his head, looking Tansy over like she was a life form from another planet. “No, no, no,” he said adamantly. “That shit is not going to fly in this office.”
Tansy looked up at him, startled. “What?”
“You hate me,” he told her.
“I don’t…hate you.”
“Yes. You hate me, and I’m okay with that. Been okay with that for a whole lot of years now. So just because you now work for my father, do not think you have to start sucking up to me. Because, I’ll tell you what. That, I would really hate.”
“Vance, I don’t just work for your father.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No,” she said cautiously, “I work for both of you. I am completely capable of running the office and being the executive assistant for both of you.”
“But I’ve got Pinks, here,” Vance said pointing at The Ninja. “He’s my man. I give him orders, he gets the job done. Pinks and I speak the same language. We understand each other.”
“Oh,” she said, nodding her head and smiling indulgently. “It makes perfect sense for you and Davis, I mean Pinks, to work together—you two being over-grown frat brothers and all. But know that if you ever need something of actual importance taken care of, I’m here for you.”
“Actual importance? Like ordering lunch?” Pinks said.
“Or making coffee?” Vance added.
“Maybe being in charge of the Famous Amos Cookie Baker I’ll be ordering off of Amazon this afternoon,” Pinks said. “You can put it on the credenza behind you and just swivel your chair around when fresh cookies are required.”
Vance chuckled and gave Pinks a high five. “See?” he said to Tansy. “An idea man.” He turned to Pinks and said, “Seriously. I want one of those.”
“I’m on it,” Pinks said, reaching for his backpack and pulling out his MacBook Air.
Tansy looked up at Vance as he sat on her desk. “Not that it hasn’t been a pleasure, but what the hell are you doing here?”
He spread his arms wide. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m working.”
“Working?”
“Yes, working. We need an office calendar. I want to schedule some meetings.” Vance noticed that Tansy pulled at a notepad and took up one of her pens, which surprised him in a good way. “What's with all the red Sharpies?”
Tansy glanced at her pens. “George W. Bush had his black Sharpies, I have my red ones.”
“George W. Bush?”
“Forty-third President of the United States.”
“I know who the man is. I just didn’t know you two were close.”
“We’re not close. It’s just….”
“Just what?”
“Nothing. The two of us prefer Sharpies, okay? Now about those meetings?”
“Right. I’d first like to meet with you, Pinks, and Dad. With the wedding coming up, Dad’s head is on Genevra and the honeymoon and nothing else. The three of us need to find out what he’s left hanging out there business-wise that we may need to follow up on in his absence. He’s taking his bride to Europe for a month or more, so we need to get with him now and see what’s what.”
“When are you available?”
“I’m…available,” he said slapping his hands against his thighs. “I’ll get whatever schedule they have for me over at the police station and let you know.”
“How ’bout you give me the name of a contact person over there, and I’ll let you know.”
Vance sat up straighter, a little taken aback that Tansy could actually be helpful to him. “Even better. Call Carol Milton. Do you know her?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, and since I’ve got nothing going on at the high school this time of year, E&E is my priority. But don’t book me for anything on Tuesday nights.”
“Why? Is that your poker night or something?”
“Or something.”
“What?”
“I teach English as a Second Language at the library.”
Tansy burst into hysterics. “Oh, my God. That is classic.”
“Pinks!” Vance yelled, getting off Tansy’s desk.
Pinks came running. “What’s up?”
“Tell your secretary where I am every Tuesday night.”
A broad smile cracked Pinks’ face. “My secretary? I like the sound of that.” He rubbed his hands together and looked over at Tansy with glee. “He tutors at the library—English as a Second Language.”
“You’re serious.” Tansy’s eyes went wide in disbelief first and then in apology as she looked between Pinks and Vance. Then her countenance changed completely. “Oh, your grandmother,” she scoffed. “You didn’t even have to take Spanish.”
“No. I didn’t have to take Spanish because I was already fluent.”
“Big deal. Start speaking Russian or Chinese. Then I’ll be impressed.”
“How about you start impressing me with your ability to focus on work? Once you’ve got that first meeting set up, I want to schedule another with Pinks, The Outlaw, and Brooks.”
“Fine. What’s this about?”
“It’s about brainstorming Brooks’ campaign platform. Hey, what city did you run off to anyway?”
“Dallas.”
“Really?” Vance raised his brows. “And how did you like it?”
“I liked it just fine, thank you.”
“Tansy,” Vance said in all seriousness. “You could be a valuable asset to Brooks’ campaign. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to have a woman’s point of view about Henderson and what this town needs. Since you ran off and then crawled back with your tail between your legs, you have a perspective we could use. I’ll call Lolly and see if she’d mind.”
“Call Lolly?” Tansy spouted. “Brooks does not need permission from Lolly to include me on some brainstorming team.”
“No. But I do,” Vance said. “Lolly’s my friend and she’s going to be my stepsister. So the last thing I’m going to do is piss her off.”
“Fine,” Tansy sighed, rubbing her forehead.
Vance smiled, standing in Tansy’s shoes for a moment. “You didn’t think this thing through, did you?”
“You mean that I’m going to be working for Genevra and Lolly DuVal now too? No,” she admitted. “I did not think this all the way through.”
“Well, Tansy,” Vance said, pushing Pinks in front of him as he headed down the hall, “cry uncle and I’ll be happy to purchase your one-way ticket back to Dallas. Maybe George W. is looking for an assistant.”
On Tuesday afternoon, Brooks beat down the door of the conference room where the E&E Investment team meeting was happening. He shoved Jesse James in front of him and held up a slew of pink flyers, ranting and raving about the sorry state of American sports as he threw them across the table.
Vance picked one up and read, “Free Introduction to Lacrosse. Girls and boys. All ages. No equipment necessary. Saturday, July 31 from 10:00 to 12:00. Henderson High soccer field.” He looked over at Brooks. “I take it you have a problem with this?”
“And you don’t?”
“The Ninja and Outlaw are entrepreneurs. I’m not going to squash their dream.”
“Their dream? You are the fucking baseball coach. What happens when Skip Lewis and Johnny Mac decide they are tired of standing around in the outfield and want to trade in their gloves for—for—”
“A real man’s sport?” The Outlaw supplied.
“Fucking A,” Brooks curse
d. He looked in earnest at Vance. “You’re killing me here. You and your band of merry men,” he said, pointing between Davis and Jesse.
“Merry men?” Vance scoffed. “I believe you are referring to my Superheroes.”
“Super-what-oes?”
“Welcome to training camp. These two are helping us set the ground work for saving Henderson. Since intern is such a generic term, we came up with superhero. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think? We’re still working on a tagline.”
“And a website,” Pinks chimed in.
“A website?” Brooks shouted at Pinks. “With a picture of you decked out in pink tights and a pink cape with a big P on your chest? And this one playing cowboy with a gun holster and black hat?”
Pinks looked at Jesse. “We could totally rock that.”
“Dynamic Duo” Jesse agreed.
“Holding lacrosse sticks,” Pinks added.
“Goddamn it, Evans,” Brooks shouted.
“What the hell are you so worried about?” Vance asked. “Their flyers are pink, for God’s sake. Girls are invited. No self-respecting baseball player is going to show up and venture into the dark side.”
“Well, just to make sure, you and I are going to be there displaying our State Championship trophy.”
“Hey! That’s intimidation,” Pinks said.
“You got that right. We’ve been cultivating this varsity team too long to have you super-yahoos come in and bust it all up.”
“Okay,” Pinks said. “You want to protect the integrity of your team, and I respect that. I mean, as a local sports hero and this town’s next mayor, you’d like to see all kids involved in sports. Look what it did for you, right?”
“Fucking A,” Brooks mumbled under his breath.
“And since so few can actually earn a coveted spot on Coach Evans’ elite, championship-winning baseball team, as mayor you’d like to cultivate more opportunities to teach sportsmanship and fight childhood obesity. As mayor, you know that because of Title IX, women’s lacrosse is the fastest-growing sport throughout colleges and universities today, creating more scholarship opportunities for women. And as mayor, creating opportunities for the entire population of Henderson is not only a goal, it’s your personal tagline.” Pinks deepened his voice as if he were a television announcer. “Creating economic opportunity for our town and our families. Brooks Bennett, candidate for mayor.”
“Ba-da-bum,” Jesse finished.
Silence.
Brooks looked between Pinks and Vance, his mouth hanging open. Finally, he said, “How the hell can I argue with that?”
“I’m not sure you can,” Vance laughed. “Here, let me walk you out. Jesse, sit in on the rest of this meeting. You and Pinks can distribute the rest of those flyers when we’re done,” Vance said as he turned a rather stunned Brooks and pushed him through the door.
“What the hell just happened in there?”
“The Ninja is smarter than I am,” Vance admitted. “Which makes him a fucking genius compared to you.”
“He reeled me in with the ‘saving the integrity of our team’ bullshit and suddenly lacrosse is now going to single-handedly save Henderson.”
“No. We are going to save Henderson, but it’s looking more and more like Pinks would be an asset to the team. I’m pulling Tansy in on it too.”
“Tansy?”
“She’s smart, she’s a woman, and she’s lived elsewhere.”
“Who are you and what the hell have you done with my friend? You hate Tansy.”
“I hate her a lot less now that she’s not going to be your wife. And since Dad hired her, we may as well put her to work. I’d like to get everyone together for a day-long brainstorming session tomorrow. I want ideas on paper, I want them prioritized and then we’ll divide them up and start researching strategies for implementation. When the day comes that you announce your candidacy, you will have in your back pocket a well-thought-out, detailed, step-by-step strategic plan to stimulate the economic growth in Henderson. There will be no empty campaign promises from the town’s Golden Boy. You will come off as smart as Pinks, only taller and better looking.”
“Absolutely. And I’ll be standing next to our Championship trophy when I do it. You can count on that.”
The rest of the week bloomed with the kind of work Vance had longed to do. He felt his father’s enthusiasm as Hale explained the ins and outs of his investment strategies with each of the companies he owned. They discussed which ones were running at optimal profit, which ones could use an influx of time or money to enhance profitability, and which ones no longer made sense to own. Vance was amazed at the attention and consideration his father gave his own opinions. The two of them had a lot in common, but it was clear they brought different skill sets to the table, skills that should prove complementary to one another.
On Thursday night, the two of them sat alone in the dark poolside, enjoying a prized Scotch from Hale’s collection along with hand-rolled Cuban cigars. They sat quietly, exhilarated by the prospects of their shared business ventures. Both feeling good about the conscious decision they’d made to support the town of Henderson with their capital, time, and expertise. As the evening lengthened, Hale eased back in his chair and said, “I’d like to share something with you, if I may.”
Vance puffed on his cigar and nodded.
“I had a revelation, if you will, while I was traveling about eight months ago. I was on this plane and noticed I was weary. Really bone-tired. I knew it wasn’t the work or even the travel because if anything, that stuff energizes me. I hoped it wasn’t my age,” he laughed and took a pull on his cigar.
“Of course,” he said, blowing smoke into the night, “anybody with a degree in psychology could have told me the problem. Even though your mother had left years ago and life had moved on, I had not. All this time I had been carrying around a lot of extra baggage wherever I went. I carried sorrow in my heart, anger in my chest, and guilt on my shoulders. I’d been carrying around hurt on my back and resentment in my mind, and I never once set it down. Of course I was weary.”
Hale took a sip of his Scotch, and Vance didn’t say a word. He didn’t want to interrupt his father now that he had finally started to talk about the aftermath of his mother’s departure.
“I decided right then to put it all down. To let it all go. I decided I needed to find a reason to forgive your mother. And the miracle was that immediately after I decided to forgive her, the answer came to me. Without your mother, I would never have had you.
“And you, my boy have been my greatest joy.” Hale reached over and rattled Vance’s arm, making him smile as he stared into his snifter. “From the moment you were born to that first shoebox full of money you made. From the first time you picked up a bat to when you started defying curfew. Every time I see your face it makes me happy. You have been my reason to work hard. My reason to come home. My reason to buy another damn car, because I get to share it with you,” he laughed.
“Now, there isn’t a woman around who comes with any guarantees.” He let that thought hover in the air around them while he sipped his Scotch. “You and I,” he said, pointing at Vance briefly with his glass. “We probably deserve a few guarantees after going through what we’ve been through. But we aren’t going to get them. We can’t love enough, do enough, give enough, or be enough to guarantee that we won’t ever have to feel that way again.
“Unfortunately. Unfortunately, for us, we have to be willing to risk feeling that bad again. It’s that simple, and it’s that hard. Genevra DuVal was available to me the day your mother walked out. But I spent twenty years being blinded by anger, hurt, and fear. The moment I gave all that up, there she was.
And my only regret—my only regret—is that I didn’t figure it out a whole lot sooner.”
Hale sipped his Scotch while Vance mulled the story over in his mind. He had a couple regrets.
“Dad,” he finally said. “I’m glad you found Genevra.”
“She’d been
there all along. Just waiting for me to get out of my own way.”
“Hmm,” Vance said noncommittally, and took a drag on his cigar.
“Figure out a reason to forgive your mother. The rest will take care of its self.”
Vance had only thought about leaving Piper standing on the side of the road in the dark about five times over the course of the week. Five times an hour, that is. Which was pretty good, considering her body haunted his dreams every damn night.
Of course the upside to that was that Lolly was no longer being conjured up in his bed, Vance thought, so at least that was something.
He hadn’t had to give voice to what happened between him and Piper Sunday night because with Lolly and Genevra AWOL taking care of wedding plans, neither of them were around to ask. And if Brooks or Pinks mentioned anything, he was able to shrug them off and change the subject. Vance knew his father was talking about Piper of course, but what really scared Vance was what Annabelle was going to do to him when she heard Piper’s side of the story.
Because although Vance stood by what he’d said to Piper, he wasn’t enough of a moron not to realize his method of delivery was spectacularly ill-timed and unfair, and that leaving her in the middle of the road at night was just plain wrong. Hurt, fear, and frustration tended to do that to a guy.
And make that frustration with a capital F. Because having his body pressed up against Piper’s didn’t just feel good, it felt soul-stirringly, mind-blowingly good. Add to that the fact that he hadn’t had anything pressed up against him since the night of Lewis’ engagement party three months ago and his frustration at Piper’s sudden change was increased tenfold.
No wonder he blew a fucking gasket.
And now as Friday’s happy hour and the weekend were about to commence, Vance felt as if he were dangling by one hand off the sheer side of a cliff. He didn’t know if he wanted to continue the struggle and reach for the edge with his other hand and hope he had the strength left to drag himself up, or if he should simply give in to what felt like the inevitable and fall back into the valley from which he had attempted to climb out.