“No, I’m not taking your money.”
“Take it. Besides, I don’t need much. I have the estate and, if necessary, I can sell it and move into a smaller condo somewhere.”
“No way, I’m not letting you sell our family home or your investments. That’s crazy. I’m not that desperate.” Actually he was, but she couldn’t know. There was a limit to how far he’d go to rebuild. Selling his childhood home or taking his mother’s security wasn’t a remote consideration. He’d dig a way out of his pit of failure but not on his mother’s back. Not an option. “Enough about me. Now that you’ve resigned from DMI, what are you planning to do with your time?” he asked.
“Don’t know, maybe I’ll become a true lady of leisure,” she said, letting a glimmer of humor poke through the depressing façade. Joel’s heart warmed. “Oh,” she said, becoming chipper, “I almost forgot to tell you. When I went into the office to turn in my resignation, Don was very kind to me.” Joel was confused and his expression must have shown it, because Mom went on with an explanation. “I was shocked too. He asked me to stay on board.”
“Really? Why?”
“I guess he truly wants to end the feud between Madeline’s family and mine. It was shocking but I sensed that he was sincere.”
“Well, stranger things have happened. To think that Madeline wants you to stay on board is crazy after all she’s put us through.”
“Wait, I didn’t say Madeline wanted me there. I said Don.”
“Oh, no wonder, now, that makes more sense. I bet Don didn’t get permission,” Joel said, erupting in laughter.
“He told me not to worry about Madeline. He said he would handle her, and I actually believe him.”
“Sounds like you’re considering his offer.”
“Absolutely not. I couldn’t stay at DMI while you’re out of the company. I wouldn’t betray you like that.”
Joel was out but not necessarily permanently. He didn’t have a detailed plan, but DMI was like a drug. A few days of withdrawal and the pull to get back in there was intensifying daily. Sherry didn’t have to know his intentions; no one did. But having her at DMI, on the inside keeping watch, was an opportunity worth considering. “I think you should take Don up on his offer.”
“Absolutely not,” she said, letting her hand flail in the air. “I’m not staying on without you.”
“Mom, you have worked hard and established yourself as a serious publicity manager. Don’t walk away from your accomplishment because of some loyalty to me.” He rested his hand on her shoulder. “You’re my mother and your loyalty is without question.” Her gaze dipped but he lifted her chin. “If you really want to make me happy, then you be happy,” he told her.
“I’m trying.”
“I have only one question, Mom: do you enjoy your job?”
“Yes, actually I do. I’m pretty good at it,” she said with glee in her tone.
“Then that settles it. Tell Don you accept his offer and go to work. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”
Joel appreciated his mom. He wanted her at DMI, not just for selfish reasons, but mainly because she deserved to be there. She was the wife of Dave Mitchell, founder of DMI. She had as much right to stay on board as Madeline, the woman who had stayed years after she divorced his dad.
“Zarah, I didn’t realize you were up,” Sherry said as her daughter-in-law entered the kitchen. They exchanged greetings. Joel went to get more juice from the fridge. “How are you feeling, my dear?” Sherry beckoned for Zarah to come and sit next to her.
“I’m feeling stronger.”
“Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.” Joel saw Zarah ease her gaze toward him. “My husband is taking very good care of me.”
“Good, good,” Sherry said.
Joel knew Zarah was referring to their time together last night. It was satisfying but not expected to be a regular occurrence. His job was to nurse her back to health, not to build false expectations for long-term fulfillment, especially since he couldn’t predict the future. Supporting Zarah as she rejuvenated from her frail condition was the extent of his marital commitment. Anything beyond that was purely speculation.
chapter
10
Madeline eased the convertible Bentley through the twelve-foot-high iron security gates and ignored the ringing phone. She stopped the car right before entering the street. Memories rushed in like a flash flood, rapid and overwhelming. She swallowed the taste of sorrow, blinked away the tears, and breathed a deep sigh, releasing the air slowly. She pushed the gas pedal without looking back at the mansion that had been her home for twenty-seven years, ever since the divorce was final. One day, when the time was right, she would return.
Madeline crept down the road with the midday sun piercing the windshield. Had she been completely present during the ride, the bright light would have been irritating. Numb, Madeline didn’t notice the inconvenience. Memories darting in and out had a lock on her attention. A horn every few blocks was the gentle nudge she needed to keep the car on the road. The ride to the DMI office normally took thirty-five minutes, but today it took her an hour and a half. She wasn’t bothered by the delay. There was no urgency in getting on her way to nowhere. Madeline let the car crawl into the executive parking lot. She rolled past Joel’s empty spot and smirked. At least her fight hadn’t been fruitless. She pulled into her space and killed the engine. Her neck rested against the seat and she allowed the sunlight to spread across her face, eyelids closed. The memories had slowed from a surging flood to a light, manageable series of showers. The phone beeped again. There were only two people on earth she was interested in talking to. Tamara definitely wasn’t calling. It had to be Don. The phone stopped beeping for a moment and then started again. He meant well. She’d ignored his calls all morning but had to answer this one. Worrying him wasn’t the objective, but rehashing a bittersweet decision wasn’t necessary either. She rummaged through her Louis Vuitton bag and pulled out the phone. Without taking a glance at the incoming number she immediately began speaking. “Okay, Don, I already know what you’re going to say. Thanks but no thanks.”
“Where have you been?” he said in a curt tone. She wasn’t offended. Most likely he was concerned because he hadn’t heard from her sooner.
“I was packing and getting the house ready to leave.”
“Come on, Mother, you were so busy that you couldn’t answer the phone?” His tone didn’t soften.
“I’m sorry, Son. I guess I got so caught up in my own little pity party that I wasn’t thinking straight. I really am sorry.”
“See, this is exactly what I’ve been afraid of. You’re over there suffering alone when it doesn’t have to be this way. Why don’t you reconsider and come to Cape Town, just for a while?”
Madeline had finally corralled her personal torment and didn’t want to open the floodgates again. “I’ll think about it, but at this moment I have to run an errand. We can talk later.”
“So long as you promise to answer your phone.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll call you later.” They exchanged goodbyes.
Madeline pulled down the vanity mirror. She patiently touched up her lipstick and patted down her hair. After a second glance she decided to add some extra makeup. She didn’t dare let the staff see the truth. She plucked a pair of sunglasses from her purse and eased them on.
Showtime. Madeline strutted through the doors, bypassing the standard security check.
“Hello, Mrs. Mitchell,” the guard said.
She managed to give a halfhearted greeting in return, continuing her stride to the bank of elevators. Many went out of their way to greet her while she waited for the door to open. Madeline wanted to be invisible. Of all the days for the elevator to take forever . . . She’d hoped to slide in undetected, pop into her office one last time, seal her lifetime of work, shed a few tears, and escape unnoticed. Hellos and good-byes would be too much if she was going to s
tick to the promise she’d made to Tamara. Tears formed on the brims of her eyelids. Madeline let them rest. The sunglasses would provide cover. The elevator stopped on the executive floor and opened. Madeline was poised in the back corner. The doors were just about to close when she swung her bag in between them so they’d spring open again.
She managed to slip off the elevator and into her office undetected, shutting the door quickly. She had to avoid running into more people. Leaving the company was painful. Having to explain the circumstances would be far worse. Madeline stood in the center of the room, the place that housed some of her greatest joys and sorrows. Her homes, her title at DMI, her administrative assistants, and even the carpeting had changed over the years. Her status as Mrs. Dave Mitchell had too, at least on paper. But her prime office had been the same from the day Dave opened the doors of DMI. She recalled the fall breeze teasing through her hair and tickling her face as they cut the red ribbon and entered the building for the first time. They walked hand in hand, prepared to take on the future with excitement and wild dreams.
Madeline gingerly traced the rim of the oversized mahogany desk, then plopped into the seat and let the chair twirl around to face the long windows. She wondered if this was going to be the last time she entered DMI. Maybe Tamara would have a change of heart, but Madeline wasn’t hopeful. No tears, no regrets with her decision. If this was the way Tamara needed the arrangement to be in order to quit running and come home, then there was no other decision to be made. Madeline stood, taking in the view one last time.
Everything had a beginning and an end on earth. Dave had completed his cycle of life and had stepped down from DMI when the time came. Now it was her turn to complete her run there. She’d come full circle, birthing her children and DMI in partnership with her beloved husband. Now both had fully matured, their company and their children. Her heart mellowed as she acknowledged that she’d fought a good fight. She had held Joel and Sherry at bay until her children were able to rightfully assume their place in their father’s company. The sweet bonus was having Joel and Sherry out of the company and on the streets, where they belonged. Relishing the notion boosted her mood. Her departure was softened to the point of being palatable. Madeline turned the doorknob, not sure which flight she’d grab once she got to the airport but certain that the day would end better than it had begun.
One step into the hallway tempered her renewed zeal. Three doors down stood Abigail and Sherry, laughing and seeming awfully jovial. Would her luck hold out one more time, allowing her to exit undetected?
“Madeline,” Abigail called out. For a split second Madeline contemplated hustling on out of there, taking the stairs if necessary to escape the duo. Her four-inch heels might have hindered some women, but they were like sneakers to Madeline and she could move quickly in them. “Madeline,” Abigail called again, approaching this time. There was no escape. Abigail had her in the snare. Short of chewing off her foot to escape, Madeline was caught. She braced for the impact. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” Abigail said.
“I’m short on time. I had to make a quick stop here, and I’m dashing right back out,” she said, pushing the elevator button, not wanting to extend the awkwardness a second longer than necessary. Abigail was fine, but Sherry’s presence was the source of her nausea.
“Are you still leaving? I know you packed your office a few days ago.” Out of her peripheral vision, Madeline could see Sherry going into Abigail’s office. She was relieved that Sherry wasn’t crazy enough to join the conversation. Their battle was over.
Madeline pushed the down arrow on the elevator several times more in rapid succession. “Yes, I’m still planning to take an extended vacation. I could use the rest. Now that Joel and his mother are out of here, it’s safe for me to leave.” Madeline peered up at the illuminated floor numbers above the elevator door. The light was stuck on three but her floor should be coming up shortly, though not soon enough. Madeline glanced Abigail’s way, not wanting to appear totally rude. Abigail suddenly seemed to tense, blinking quite a bit. “What’s wrong with you?” Madeline asked.
“I guess you don’t know.”
“Know what?” Madeline said, looking up at the elevator light, which was still stuck. She pushed the elevator button again.
“Sherry has decided to stay on.”
“What did you say?” Madeline bellowed, forgetting where she was or simply not caring.
“Sherry is staying on board.”
“No, she is not,” Madeline said, drawing back and locking her arms across her chest. “You must be crazy. I know she’s crazy, but you sound crazy too.”
The elevator door opened. One person already on the elevator asked if anyone was getting on.
“No,” Madeline barked out, causing the person to shrink into the rear of the elevator, letting the door close without any new passengers.
Madeline headed for Abigail’s office to confront Sherry.
“Stop,” Abigail said, jumping into her path, which was like jumping in front of a runaway train. “Don asked her to stay on board. Apparently at first she wasn’t sure, but Joel talked her into staying on.”
“Huh, you have to be kidding me. This is a joke.”
“I thought you knew.”
Don had mentioned something about forgiving Sherry and letting her stay on. A blur. At the time Madeline was saturated with glee from Joel stepping down. She didn’t take the gesture seriously. Don had temporarily taken leave of his senses, or so she assumed. Sherry was flat-out crazy.
“I’m walking out of my office maybe for the last time and that conniving, home-wrecking bimbo is going to be walking around my company. Oh no she’s not,” Madeline said, pushing past Abigail this time. Don’s betrayal would have to come later. Dealing with the issue in person was paramount. Abigail’s last attempt to stop the collision failed. Madeline burst into Abigail’s office and found Sherry sitting in one of the guest chairs. “Who do you think you are, showing up here?” She approached Sherry, allowing little room between them. Sherry tried to stand but there wasn’t enough space. “Don’t you get it? Your son is out of here. He was a failure and almost took DMI down with him.” Sherry attempted to speak, but Madeline talked over her, rendering Sherry silent until she finished. “Thank goodness he had one act of decency in him and stepped down before he was kicked out.”
“I’m not going to do this with you,” Sherry said, pushing the chair back so she had space to stand. “Don asked me to stay on and I am. If you have a problem with it, talk to him. Personally, I’ve heard enough of your rantings and ravings to last a lifetime.”
“You haven’t heard the best of it yet, trust me.”
“Whatever, Madeline, I’m not going to argue with you. Don was right, it’s time to let go and start healing this family.”
“So now you know what’s best for my family? You didn’t care about my family and children thirty years ago when you seduced their father away from them.”
“Here we go, back to stuff that happened thirty years ago. Abigail, I’ll talk with you later. I’m heading out until Madeline is gone.”
“I bet you like that, don’t you? I’m out and you’re staying. Huh, we’ll see how that works out.”
Sherry stopped before reaching the doorway and turned to face Madeline. “Face it, you won. My son is out of a job. Your son is in charge, which is what you’ve always wanted. You’ve won, whoopee. Now, can you please leave me alone?”
Madeline felt the dagger of fate twisting in her heart. The blow of defeat couldn’t have been crueler.
chapter
11
Madeline dashed from the room, furious. She couldn’t stay there with Sherry another second. Watching her sit smugly in that chair and act like she was in charge drove Madeline far beyond frustration. She was ready to fire bullets of rage. Each time she realized a degree of calm and considered moving on, life jerked her back into conflict. She longed to get outside and draw in a breath of fresh air. She pressed the
elevator button incessantly.
“Madeline, wait, I need to talk with you,” Abigail said, hustling to catch up.
Madeline wasn’t waiting. When the elevator opened, she planned to get in. Abigail could come along if she could jump in. Before her thoughts were fully formed, the doors sprang open. Madeline stepped in, pressing the ground-floor button without hesitating. Abigail followed.
“What do you want, Abigail? I have no interest in your Mother Teresa lecture.” Madeline extracted a lipstick case from her purse, unsnapped the latch, poised the mini mirror in view, and applied color to her lips. “I don’t want you telling me why I need to be nice to Sherry. Don’t bother with the lecture. Save it for someone who cares,” she said as the doors opened.
“I’m not here to talk about Sherry. I’m here for you, to see if there’s anything I can do for you.”
Madeline stepped out of the elevator more composed than she had been six floors up. She slowed, letting Abigail keep pace. “Thank you, but I’m fine.”
“I feel awful about what’s happening,” Abigail said, seeming embarrassed. “I hate to see you walk out. We all rely on you. I know it and you know it.”
“Life goes on. You don’t need me. You will be just fine. So will Don and DMI too.”
“There’s nothing I can do?”
“Nothing,” Madeline said, preparing to exit the building, possibly for the last time. She turned to face Abigail. “There is one request that I have. It’s extremely important to me.”
“Anything, name it and it’s done.”
“Look out for my son. Don has his hands full with fixing DMI and keeping his own company together. He will need a huge amount of help. Naledi can only do so much from Africa, eight thousand miles away. He could use a friend right here in town.” Madeline rested her hand on the bar of the revolving door. “I’m hoping that friend is you.”
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