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Broken

Page 3

by Patricia Haley


  She fumbled through a small stack of papers on the two-seat table and stopped when she got to her checkbook. Seeing the equivalent of a $1,314 balance was sobering; she couldn’t run too far with that amount. A plane ticket alone was around $600, which didn’t leave enough for an apartment deposit and the first month’s rent. Tamara plopped down on the sofa sleeper, fingering through her hair, searching for answers that weren’t falling from the ceiling, no matter how she stared. There was only one option. As much as she hated the notion of going home to Detroit under duress and to her dysfunctional family, it didn’t compare to the trauma that could come from Remo running around somewhere out there ready to do her harm.

  Tamara removed her luggage from the wardrobe. She checked the time, careful not to let two hours catch her in the flat. Remo was definitely on his way, taking every possible shortcut to get to her. If he was going to be there in a few hours, she had to be out in one. Twenty minutes had already evaporated while she was calculating the remaining dollars in her skimpy account. Although she desperately needed help, Tamara was not going to let Madeline or Don know the full extent of her troubles.

  She scrambled to get packed, constantly peering out the window and keeping a tight grip on every second. Clothes were scarce. Carrying excess from town to town had grown exhausting, and each move shaved away some of her belongings. Upon leaving France, she’d opted to bring only the two pieces of free checked luggage allowed on her flight to London. After ten or eleven moves, Tamara was sure she was at the core of her existence and had only items of value remaining. She looked around the room, a stark contrast from the plush accommodations that enveloped her childhood. Tamara stuffed the suitcase, not quite able to get in all five pairs of pants, eight shirts, her jacket, and her underclothes. She’d take along only one of the larger suitcases, plus the smaller knapsack as a carry-on. The other suitcase, along with a few shirts, would have to be sacrificed and stay behind. What else? she thought, looking around, combing the room while simultaneously keeping track of the time. Forty-five minutes gone. Her nerves were flaring up. Remo couldn’t be taken lightly. She had to hurry. Suitcase zipped, knapsack latched and tucked under her arm, she was ready. Tamara opened the door and began pulling it shut. Wait. She rushed back in and snatched open the wardrobe, dropping the knapsack. She didn’t have her passport.

  Tamara rustled through the papers and trinkets left behind. She got to a huge clasped envelope and breathed a sigh of relief, drawing in a long stretch of air and slowly releasing it. She pressed the envelope to her chest. This represented the grand sum of her independence—passport, birth certificate, a copy of the first check she’d received for one of her paintings, and her Swiss bank account details. She extracted the papers partially, checking to make sure none were missing. Focused on her travel documents, her key to freedom, Tamara was unprepared for the photo at the bottom of the stack. She looked away, letting her bottom plop down to the floor. There was the family photo taken at Disney World with Dave, Madeline, Tamara, and her three brothers, Sam, Andre, and Don, right before her father left them. She held it, peering at the strangers on the paper. She was five years old when it was taken. The memory was raw, like it was yesterday. The time represented one of the rare moments when she recalled being happy, safe, and normal. The rest was a blur. Tamara shoved the papers and photo into the envelope. Fifty-five minutes gone. Time had run out. She dashed out of the flat with her suitcase and knapsack. Move number twelve was under way. She’d feel more secure when the plane was taxiing down the runway and there was no sign of Remo on board.

  chapter

  5

  Reconciling was a priority, but the cab ride was sobering for Don. There had to be a reasonable solution to this fresh family catastrophe. Don wasn’t delusional about the monumental task he was undertaking, trying to restore a family that had endured nonstop destruction. If he allowed himself to fully grasp the magnitude of this undertaking, he would have given up right there, but hope catapulted him forward. If God could miraculously put DMI into his hands, a seemingly impossible feat, then certainly He could reconcile a mother and daughter. The fight they’d just had didn’t shout reconciliation, but Don refused to give up.

  This was supposed to be the beginning of a new era for the Mitchell family, which had imploded over the past forty years. Gobs of forgiveness and grace laced with time would be the building blocks necessary for their healing. He’d already taken the first step. Less than forty-eight hours ago he’d asked his stepmother, the woman who made his childhood miserable, to stay on board at DMI. Nobody could have predicted these events, that Joel would resign or that Don would reach out to Sherry. He didn’t want her to leave. Don hadn’t told Madeline yet, but it was time for healing all around.

  Don wasn’t able to gauge his mother’s feelings. She gazed out the window as the cab rolled along the countryside on its way to the airport.

  “She’s too thin. You see how thin she is?” Mother said, and mumbled a few more incoherent statements.

  Don would keep her as calm as possible. “I noticed, Mother, but I’m sure she’s not sick.”

  “Life is funny,” she said, continuing to stare out the window. “I got what I wanted but not the way I wanted. I never expected that you and Tamara would be in Detroit, working at DMI without me. We were this close,” she said, pinching her thumb and index finger together, “yet this far away,” she added, spreading her arms. “I can’t do this again, get my hopes up only to have them crushed time after time.”

  Don realized sacrifices had to be made to get to the good part, but if he could spare Madeline any extra hurt today, he would. She’d suffered loss upon loss, starting with his father’s affair with Sherry. The tragic death of Madeline’s two sons followed, planting roots of bitterness deeper than his love could reach. She deserved a break.

  “Mother, before we came to London, you were packing up and planning to leave Detroit and DMI.” Madeline nodded in confirmation. She didn’t speak but he wasn’t surprised to see her dab the wet corners of her eyes. “I don’t see any reason for you to leave, not now.”

  “Why not?” She spoke barely above a whisper, continuing to pat the corners of her eyes with a tissue.

  “The only reason you were going was to make Tamara happy. She’s the one who wanted you to go, so she could come home without any conflict. Personally, I don’t think you have to completely leave the state to give her space. Detroit and DMI are the two constants in your life. Honestly, neither would be the same without you.”

  Madeline laughed. “You’re a good son,” she said with a tempered grin. “But there comes a time when you have to recognize that it’s time to leave the dance. This is my time.”

  “No it’s not. Tamara has changed her mind. She doesn’t want to come home, and if Tamara isn’t coming back, you don’t have to leave. Plus, remember, the main reason I asked her to come back was to join forces with us, combine our stock, and vote out Joel. Now we don’t need her stock. God has given us the company without it.”

  “I’ve been known to pull a few underhanded moves on Joel and that mother of his, but I’ve never backstabbed my children. I won’t start now.”

  “Mother, you’re not backstabbing Tamara. She changed her mind. You heard her say that she’s not coming home, and if she’s not, you don’t have to leave Detroit.”

  “All right, all right, how many times are you going to repeat that?”

  “As many as it takes to get you to change your mind.”

  “All right, I’ll think about it. I mean, I guess you do have a point. If she’s not coming home, that does change the situation.” Don watched as his mother pondered his request. “I guess you could use my help fixing the mess your father’s baby boy has made. You’ll need all the help you can get.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “I guess so,” she said.

  Don rushed in with a hug. Whatever joy his mother could muster was well earned. “Cool. Once we get to the airport, I’m taking a fli
ght to Cape Town, just to check in with my business.” His phone rang. “I’ll plan to see you in Detroit by early next week.” Don excused himself and answered the call. It was Tamara. “Hello, Sis. I was planning to call you once we got settled in at the airport, but you beat me to it. Are you feeling any better since we left?”

  “Depends on who you ask. I’ve changed my mind again. I am taking up Mother’s offer.” Don didn’t respond, avoiding eye contact with his mother, intentionally shifting his gaze out the window and across the field. “Can you hear me?” Tamara asked, probably because he was quiet.

  “I heard you. You’ve changed your mind,” he said, keeping his gaze away from Madeline. He couldn’t bear to look at her.

  “You don’t seem too excited. Is the offer still on the table?” Tamara asked.

  Don finally had to face his mother before answering. “I’m sure the offer is still on the table.” Madeline’s head bobbed up and down in confirmation.

  “Great, because I need to come back. But there is one problem. I haven’t been able to find my credit card since I moved in. Could you loan me the money for a ticket until I can get funds moved around in my accounts?”

  A ticket was going to be less than a thousand dollars. Don was surprised Tamara needed help with such a small amount of money but didn’t see it as a problem.

  “I’ll make sure you get a ticket,” Don said. Madeline heard him and perked up. “Do I need to get you some cash too?” he asked.

  Mother got the gist of the conversation and grabbed the phone. “Tamara, there will be a first-class ticket waiting for you at Heathrow Airport. I’ll pay full fare on the next available British Airways flight with no restrictions. You can change the time or date to whatever you want. Just know that the ticket is waiting for you, and if you give me your account number, I’ll have fifty thousand dollars wired, no questions asked. If you need more, let me know. It’s no problem.”

  “The ticket is all I need. It’s just a loan until I get my funds rearranged. Since it’s after hours, I can’t get much done until after the weekend, but don’t worry. I’ll give you your money back.”

  “Don’t worry about the ticket. No matter where I am and no matter what’s going on between us, I’m still your mother. If you ever need me for anything, I will be there, no strings attached. You remember that. I love you,” Madeline said, and quickly handed Don the phone without allowing Tamara time to respond.

  When Don took the call, he heard nothing. Tamara hadn’t responded. He didn’t expect her to tell their mother she appreciated her but a kind word or gesture would have been refreshing. None came. Don realized the amount of work that had to be done between them. Madeline appeared willing but Tamara was not. He ended the call and faced his mother.

  “It’s not too late for us, Mother. Give Tamara a week or two and I’ll talk to her again. She might listen.”

  “No, no,” she said, raising her voice slightly but tapping Don’s hand simultaneously. He figured it was her way of letting him know it was okay. “I gave her my word, and I will keep it, even if the commitment literally kills me. She deserves this, and if it’s in my power to give her a small slice of happiness, then it’s done.”

  Don didn’t respond. He read the resolve in her response and knew that no exceptions would be considered. Her decision was final.

  Madeline braced herself. The remaining cab ride to the airport was going to be filled with mixed emotions. She was boiling over with satisfaction at having both of her children finally heading to Detroit to run their father’s company. It was why she’d fought so vehemently against Joel and Sherry, year after year, to reclaim their rightful inheritance. Heaviness lay on her shoulders. Never had she dreamed that the cost would be so high—that she’d be barred from witnessing the happy reunion. Disappointment had become her soul mate. God had finally given her a taste of redemption and victory over her adversaries, her husband’s other family. Yet the celebration wasn’t long-lived. Hers never were.

  chapter

  6

  Don was drained. He was accustomed to Madeline and Joel constantly fighting over this and that, but the dueling between the two had taken its toll. Watching the reunion between his mother and Tamara disintegrate was too much. He craved a mini-retreat, some time out of the line of fire. South Africa, his home for the past three and a half years, was the perfect spot. Don let his head lean back against the seat of the cab and shut his eyelids, just for a brief time. Madeline was uncharacteristically quiet, too quiet. “Mother, Tamara was overwhelmed by our surprise visit. This whole thing is my fault.”

  “No, it’s not. I don’t blame you, not one bit.”

  Witnessing the distraught look on Tamara’s face and the hurt feelings that his mother was experiencing didn’t make him feel good about the impulsive decision. “What can I do to help you?” Don said just as his phone vibrated on the seat. He glanced at the number on his PDA, expecting it to be Tamara. Instead it was from LTI, his office in South Africa. Don ignored it, wanting to give Madeline his undivided attention. It continued ringing.

  “Answer it, that’s what you can do for me.” Don was about to push the off button when Madeline grabbed his hand. “Answer your phone; please do that for me.”

  Reluctantly he answered and heard Naledi on the line. She was the encouragement he needed. Her perfect blend of Indian, French, English, and South African speech never grew old. “Naledi, it’s good to hear from you.” Madeline turned away from Don and peered out the window. He attempted to keep her in his line of sight while concentrating on the conversation with Naledi. Managing LTI and DMI business spread across two continents required many adjustments, sacrifices, and a mound of help. Naledi was a godsend at LTI.

  “Don, some of our clients from Nigeria will be here tomorrow, and they would like to meet with you. Is it possible?”

  “I wasn’t planning to be there tomorrow,” he said, gazing at the back of his mother’s head. “I’m heading to Detroit first and then home to Cape Town in a few days.”

  Madeline turned toward him. “Go,” she whispered. “Go,” she said again, flicking her hand toward Don repeatedly.

  He muffled the mouthpiece on the phone. “I’m not letting you go to Detroit alone, not after what happened with you and Tamara.”

  “And I don’t want a babysitter,” she yelled at him.

  “Okay, if that’s how you want it. I won’t push. The last thing I want to do is upset you more than you already are,” he said, covering the phone more tightly, not wanting Naledi to hear. He had to live with the Mitchell drama daily but didn’t want Naledi subjected to the darker side of his world. “Looks like I am coming to Cape Town. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Wonderful, I look forward to seeing you,” she said, her voice softening with each word. He melted. “I’ll text you my travel details after I get to the airport. Cheers,” he said, and ended the call. He shifted his attention back to Madeline, who had eased back in the seat and appeared to have lowered her protective shield.

  “Don, I apologize for yelling at you. I’m on edge but I can’t take this out on you. Please forgive me,” she said, locking her gaze on him. “This is your time.”

  Three years had skated by and now look where he was: assuming the CEO position at a bankrupt company. Despair wanted to lay claim to his victory, reminding him of how poorly Joel had managed the company and what an awful state it was in. Why couldn’t he have received it in the same condition in which Joel had received it from their father? But Don couldn’t let old resentment toward his brother, their father’s favorite, slither in. He refused to let his victory be overtaken by vengeance.

  “Apology accepted. Now, let’s get down to business. I need you in Cape Town with me. Besides, you can’t find a more peaceful place on earth to regroup.” It had worked for him nearly four years ago and it would serve as a good retreat for her too. “I promise.”

  She slowly shook her head.

  “Seriously, I could really use your help with LT
I. I have a boatload of projects going on there, and Naledi has been an angel with holding it down. But she could use the help, especially now that I’m going to be spending so much time in Detroit pulling DMI together. Don’t misunderstand, I’m not complaining, but it’s going to be a bear over the next six months. Joel left the company in shambles and it won’t get fixed overnight, not without a miracle, and not without you.”

  “Don, stop right there.” She shifted her body in the seat and completely faced him. “It’s easy to see what you’re trying to do. I appreciate you trying to find a place for me since Tamara has kicked me out of DMI.” Don didn’t interrupt. He didn’t have the solution for comforting his mother. Nothing he’d said or offered so far had worked. “I’m doing exactly like I planned before our little rendezvous in England. I’m packing up and heading out of town and that’s final.”

  “But—” was all Don could get out before Madeline interrupted.

  “That’s all there is to it. Nothing in this world is more important than you and Tamara are to me.” She sat tall in the seat, smoothing the side of her hair as the tone of her voice grew firmer.

  Don wasn’t going to argue with her. He took comfort in seeing her regaining strength. She was human and subject to hurt and rejection like anyone, but admittedly, the sight of the fearless Madeline showing vulnerability wasn’t something he hoped to ever witness again. Her relentless pursuit of her dreams had primed him to be the man he was today; his father had been less of an influence. Madeline was the one who’d poured love and support into his life from childhood, never wavering, always the perfect mother to him, despite her countless flaws. In her time of need he was determined to show her the same level of support and unconditional love. She deserved it. Maybe Tamara didn’t see it, but he did. “Well, my offer stands. As much as Tamara wants you out of Detroit, I need you to work for me. I could honestly use your marketing expertise. Nobody can run an operation like you.”

 

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