Grey: A Life Unraveled (Tapestry of Life Book 1)

by Lee Miller

  “WOMAN!” her father’s voice boomed through the house. “Woman!” not dear wife; or Sheila, her mom’s name; not sweetie; just “Woman!” that was how her father always referred to her mother. “In here Carl. I’m in the kitchen with Sara.” she replied. Sara could detect the hardness and the edge of anger in her mother’s voice. She wondered wildly if her dad could pick it up. She heard the heavy footsteps come down the hall. He had been drinking already. This didn’t bode well and Sara’s fear only deepened. She counted them. It was 10 steps from the front door to the kitchen door. Each step made her heart thump even harder. Dread set in.

  He reached the door and threw it open with force. In her hysteria Sara almost laughed at the sight she and her mother must have made. A long silence flooded the air. The sun’s last rays were breaking through the window behind her. This day is the end she thought to herself. Suddenly Sara found a strength she didn’t know she had while it seemed that her mother began to cower under her father’s withering gaze.

  “Hello Daddy.” Sara said with a newfound self-assuredness. “Humph!” is all he could give in response. “Where is my damn dinner woman!” he barked at his wife. “In the fridge daddy, should still be fresh if you remembered to pay the electric bill this month” Sara replied with a dead calm and almost serene voice. “That is if you didn’t drink it all away” she added. Her father’s eyes slowly shifted to her and while still giving a withering look; there was also a look of shock in them. Nobody talked back to him. “Excuse me you snot nosed little punk?!” He roared back. Sara knew she had to stand her ground. She glanced at her mother who looked at her in awe and disbelief. “Going for broke, all or nothing” she thought to herself. “Daddy,” Sara said in her innocent little voice “how is Private Jensen?” Confused, her father gave her a blank stare. A look of incomprehension set across his face. “Why? You like him or something?” came the response Sara assumed was coming. “No.” she said. “I was just wondering.” She glanced at her mother for the strength she needed to say what needed to be said next. She looked out of the window at the fading light. She saw the street lights flicker on and watched as the street she lived on shined in the yellowish rays of the sodium vapor lights. Crickets could be heard singing their nocturnal tunes. In the distance a single dog barks and it echoes through the night air. “Maybe you should sit down Dad; you may not like what I have to say.”

  “DON’T YOU TELL ME WHAT TO DO YOU LITTLE SHIT!!” he thundered out. His face was turning from the tan that it usually was to every shade of red as his anger built. “CARL!” her mother yelled, surprising everyone “for once in your life, sit down and listen to the girl!” she finished. Dear old dad wasn’t use to being told what to do, ironic since he joined the service right out of high school. Yet he sat down and seemed to at least feign interest in what Sara had to say. She related every sordid detail about that night with Jensen; the hurt, the fear, and the loneliness since then. To his credit, her father’s face again reflected every shade of red imaginable but he stayed silent through the whole thing. When Sara had finished telling all that had happen she sat and waited for his response. He sat there quietly as if he was trying to process it all.

  He slowly arose from his seat without a word and began pacing. He stopped right in front of Sara’s chair. She looked into his eyes to see if there was any way to discern what he was thinking. He looked her up and down as if trying to measure her. Unsure of what he saw when he gazed at his only daughter. Finally he spoke. “So…let me get this straight. You…screwed Jensen and now wanna...you wanna…” Without warning his hand flew down at her and the back of it struck her against her cheek, knocking her out of her chair. Sara was sprawled on the floor, her dress hiked up in a very unlady-like manner, one shoe was on and the other had skittered across the floor. “YOU SCREW ONE OF MY FRIENDS AND NOW WANT TO YELL ‘RAPE’?” he hollered. “You damn slut!! I’ll beat some appropriateness into you!!!” he bellowed out. Through his yelling and the loud ringing in her ears, she never heard nor saw her mother move, yet there she was and before her father could reach her again, she saw his shadow drawing closer. She barely had time to roll out of the way before he landed with a loud thud on the kitchen floor with a butcher knife sticking out of the back of his head.

  After seventeen years of living in fear. After seventeen years of believing he was invincible. After seventeen years of cowering down to him, there he was. He was stone cold dead on the kitchen floor while her mother was in a rage. “That sick son of a bitch will never hurt anyone ever again!” she roared. She helped Sara get back in her chair. They both looked down at the now deceased father and husband. The dog barked again. The crickets fell silent. The goldish haze of the lamps outside shone brighter. Life had changed. Nothing would ever be the same. Sara watched as her mother paced the floor. She never heard the call placed to 911 but recognized the uniform of the Clarksville police department as the officers entered the kitchen. Mother was whisked away for questioning and EMT’s came in to tend to Sara and the body on the floor.

  The next several weeks went by in a whirlwind. Given my father’s past record and statements given by those who knew him, my mother was cleared of any wrong doing. We moved away from Clarksville and went back to her native Piedmont, Ok. The place where she grew up. A place where no one knew of our past. She carried two full time jobs and encouraged me to stay in school and get my diploma. I worked when I could. Something else happen as well. On warm summer’s evening as a storm raged overhead, my mother asked me to look into taking martial arts classes. She wanted me to defend myself and be able to stop anyone from hurting me again. So I did. I threw myself into learning everything I could. I tried a few styles before settling on Kung Fu. It gave me what I needed the most, discipline and the ability to protect myself.

  Mom died a few years later, while she was away at college, though her teachings have never left her.

  “Hey Miss! We’re here. You getting out or what?” the gruff voice of the cab driver brought Sara out of her memories and into the present day. “Huh? Oh yes, thank you. Here, keep the change.” she said, her voice sounding distant even to her. “You okay miss? You’ve hardly said a thing. Is the weather getting you down?” he asked. “Yes. That must be it, the weather” she said as she exited the car into the cold brisk air of the city.

  The move to Oklahoma was the best thing to ever happen to Sara. Because of her excellent grades and with the help of scholarships and grants, she was able to attend the University of Oklahoma. The four years there changed her life completely. She met and fell in love with Chris and gained an education that would lead to her current career as a reporter. Chris. Every time she thinks of him it puts a smile on her face. Their first meeting, their first date. The first time he kissed her.

  “Excuse me miss? I think you dropped this” came a voice that irked her. She was enjoying fond memories and this voice had to interrupt them. She turned around to see a man standing behind her holding some papers in his hands. She recognized them as her story, which was due to her editor today. She gratefully accepted the papers back from the kind gentleman. “Thanks! You may have just saved my life! My boss would have killed me if I had lost these” she replied with a smile. “Yes, can never be too careful of people who may want to kill you Miss” he said cryptically, his smile fading. Unnerved she took her papers and moved quickly through the door. She glanced back, wanting to remember as much of this man as possible. The strange hook to his nose and the pale blue eyes seemed familiar to her but she couldn’t place where she had seen him. She needed to get a move on if she planned to get home before the storm hit and have time to get ready for tonight. She felt her purse buzz and looked in it to retrieve her phone. She had missed a call from Chris while she had the strange encounter. Her heart smiled at the thought of him thinking about her during his day. She had time to call him back. She touched the phone icon near his name and put the phone to her ear. It rang.

  Chris

  It had been a busy day at the off
ice. He had been up for a partnership in his firm and was constantly working to show the powers that be that he earned that coveted spot. He had made excellent grades through all of his schooling; put in extra hours on cases he was assigned and went the extra mile to protect the firm’s clients. He was voted the best and brightest junior member of the firm and had a win/loss record that was better than anyone else’s. He rarely lost cases. He hated to lose. His competitive spirit led him to quarterback his high school to its first state championship in 30 years. It earned him a full ride football scholarship at the University of Oklahoma. It led him to excel in almost everything he did. He didn’t know the meaning of the word “quit”. Chris had never backed down from a challenge or a case, except for one. One time he refused to try. The one time he refused to even begin let alone finish. That case was personal. No way could he defend the man who committed an atrocity towards his family. He remembers that case. He will never forget the man. Chris stared out the window of his office at the darkening slate gray sky and wondered if his choice in the end had been the right one. No, no second-guessing. It was the right choice.

  Running unusually late, Chris didn’t have time for his routine coffee and Danish pastry from his favorite coffee shop on the way to the office. Instead he almost ran the whole way to the place that was like a second home to him. Sara had a rough night and neither got much sleep. The bad nights were fewer and further between, but they still happen and Chris is always left feeling powerless to stop the ones who cause his beautiful wife nightmares even all these years later. As he rushed into the office his secretary informed him the boss wanted to see him immediately. Chris began to worry. The boss wanting to see you first thing could never mean anything good. He went into his office to put his stuff away and quickly admired the view he was afforded due to his stature in the firm. It was gorgeous and breathtaking even now. Smiling to himself he let the tension of the upcoming meeting with the senior partner of the firm wash away. He had dealt with worse and more stressful meetings. Collecting himself, he walked out of his office to inform his secretary to hold his calls until he gets back and to inform Mr. Scott he was on his way up.

  The short ride up the elevator had Chris’s mind wondering. What could the senior boss want? Was he in trouble? Did he forget to do something? He knew it did no good to worry and that the day would play out however it will. He believed and lived his life by statistics. He believed what he could see and gave little notion or thought to the invisible things he couldn’t prove. He and Sara were polar opposites in this regard. She held onto her faith and love of God who had let so many bad things happen to her in her life. Chris however abstained from faith and dealt with what he could see. No invisible force controlled his life. This major difference in their lives is a contention at times. Neither would relent and neither could persuade the other to their way of thinking. In the end, they simply agreed to disagree.

  The elevator doors open and Chris steps out into the most luxurious office space he has ever seen. Mr. Scott’s office took up an entire floor all for itself. He had a small pool of secretaries and a pool of paralegals that worked for him only. He had been an attorney for as many decades as Chris had been alive. He stepped up to the senior secretary, a lovely young lady named Debbie. She was approximately Chris’s age and seemed to always wear dresses with some kind of floral print. He never knew her fascination with flowers and never thought to ask. He simply took it as part of her charm. Yet Debbie could be a barracuda at times. It was hard to ever get one over on her and she had an iron will that brokered no stupidity from anyone, especially her boss. Chris supposed that’s why Mr. Scott kept her around. He needed someone that could not only take his crap, but dish it back out when he needed it.

  “Hey Debbie” Chris greeted as he walked up to her desk. Debbie looked up with a look of surprise on her face “Oh Chris…not you!” Chris was taken aback. “Uh…what do you mean, ‘Not you’?” he inquired. “Well, seems the only time anyone is called to Mr. Scott’s office is to be told to find employment elsewhere.” Debbie said with concern dripping from every word. “Well, if that is the plans for today, then perhaps we should set them in motion and not keep Mr. Scott waiting.” Chris had to smile at the level of concern Debbie had for him. They had only spoken a handful of times and yet he seemed to get her in a way most didn’t. She legitimately cared for those she worked with. As hard as she could be at times came from a genuine desire to help.

  Debbie nodded. “I’ll announce you right away Chris. God be with you.” She said as she reached for the intercom button. “God be with me? He never has been before; He’s not likely to start now I’m afraid.” Chris replied. He stepped away from her desk so as to not invite a conversation about a faith he didn’t share and could feel Debbie’s eyes on his back as she announced to the boss Chris Connell was here to see him. “Send him in Debbie” Mr. Scott’s gravelly voice came from the phone speaker on the desk. “He will see you now Chris” Debbie responded, with a bit more coolness to her voice than before.

  As he walked through the double mahogany doors into the largest and most lavishly appointed office he had ever seen. Chris couldn’t help but wonder if an office like this could be his someday. Then again, the amount of hours of work it would take to maintain such a thing would probably explain Mr. Scott’s four divorces and living a life in which his kids had no idea who he was. No, an office like this comes at too high of a cost and Chris was not prepared to pay it. As his eyes floated across the room of despair and loneliness, they finally settled on the older gentleman sitting behind the large mahogany desk. Mr. Scott, “The Boss”.

  “Have a seat Chris,” the kindly gentleman instructed as he stood and waved Chris to one of two nice overly stuffed plush black leather high back chairs. “No thank you sir, if I’m to be fired, I’d like to do it standing.” Chris replied with a slight smile on his lips. The older man had a stern and rather severe look on his face. Chris could imagine that look withering younger attorneys and even judges in the courtroom. The loaded silence seemed to stretch out into the world and continue on endlessly. Mr. Scott slowly came around from behind his overly loaded desk, never once breaking eye contact with Chris who kept a cool and calm demeanor and returned the older man’s gaze with one of his own. Mr. Scott approached him and Chris could see the corners of his mouth twitch upward ever so slightly. Mr. Scott took Chris’s hand and shook it as a slight laughter escaped and said “I see Debbie’s over active imagination is working again!” and let out a soft laugh that did not go with the sever look that same face had worn only moments ago.

  “Seriously, have a seat Chris. There is a case I wish to discuss with you and only you” Mr. Scott stated, emphasizing the last part, as he went back around to his seat behind his desk. “I assume you mean discretion is of the utmost Mr. Scott?” Chris asked. “Yes Chris. This must be handled delicately and with precision. An old client of the firms is in some legal trouble. I’ve looked over the case and believe this will be an easy one to win in court, but I don’t want to take chances and only want the best working on it. It will be your case but I will be here to assist in whatever you need. Nail this one Chris and you’ll be a few steps closer to a partnership my boy.” Mr. Scott’s face took on a grim look as if to emphasize the importance and gravity of his words. “Who’s the client sir?”

  “It’s Tony Diego.” The boss looked at Chris to access his reaction to the name. Chris, always able to pull a poker face, gave him nothing to read. “Very well sir. I will gladly take the case and see to it that Mr. Diego is cleared.” A silence lingered between the two men. “Chris, Tony is charged with racketeering and fraud. The charges against him are circumstantial to start with. However, we need to do our homework on this and make sure we serve our client without implicating our firm or us in anything. We don’t need to walk out of this with mud on our face.” The gravity of what was said hitting Chris. “You mean, if it appears that he is guilty then we what? Throw the case? Step away?” “We do whatever we
have to do to save the firm. That is what I’m saying. This case is very delicate.” “I’m on it sir.” Chris said sounding more resolute than he actually felt. “Good, see Polly for all the details. She will be your paralegal on this case. You have full access to my personal staff should you need them.” Chris was on cloud nine. He was just handed the biggest case in his life by his boss. If he can nail this, his partnership is all but secured. He couldn’t wait to get home and tell Sara about it tonight. First, he needed to get all the facts and information he could from Polly. Then start scheduling interviews and talking to the client.

  Chris had made some calls and finally got in touch with Tony Diego, his client. He introduced himself and was stopped abruptly by the gruff sounding man on the other end of the line. “Chris, Chris, it is in poor taste and style for two men to discuss business over the phone on such a delicate matter.” Chris realized Tony was full blown Italian and almost chuckled to himself about the stereotype this must set but refrained. “Understood Mr. Diego, where and when would you like to meet to discuss things?” Chris inquired. “I’ll be in touch Chris.” and with that, the line went dead. “Huh, very unusual” Chris thought to himself as he hung up the receiver.

  A couple of days later a nondescript package arrived at his office. It was there waiting for him when he got in. The mailroom must have left it lying against his office door last night. He was a little miffed at the fact sensitive information passes through this office on a regular basis. Shouldn’t they be more careful about delivering packages? He opened it and found an invitation that required a RSVP. It was written on expensive linen paper, the kind only the rich and famous use. It was from the assistant of Tony Diego. “Okay, so he can afford assistants and expensive paper. Of course he can. He can also keep the most prominent attorney’s office in town on retainer.” Chris realized he was mumbling to himself. A sure sign he was probably going nuts. Chris fished out the other stuff in the packet. A voucher for a nice suit at the Men’s Boutique and Tuxes and a new cell phone. “What in the hell is wrong with my cell phone?” Chris wondered then realized he’d put money on the fact this was a secured line. Chris read the accompanying letter with the packet.