“Then we’ll print the piece without your input based on our research and talking to some of your coworkers. But I’d hate for you not to share your thoughts, since the story is about you.”
“You talked to my coworkers?”
“I didn’t, but another reporter did, I think.”
Oh, hell. Lenora flopped down on the edge of her bed. “Go ahead, but I don’t have long.”
“So how did you feel when you realized you’d won the money?” Peter asked.
“Great at first. Shocked but excited. I’m still shocked, to tell you the truth.”
She could hear computer keys clacking in the background. “You said you felt great at first. What does that mean? Did something happen to change that?”
“Mm, not really. It dawned on me eventually that this kind of money was going to change my life, and I wasn’t feeling so hot for a while.”
“Really? Was it nerves?” Peter asked.
“Probably.”
“How long were you sick?”
“A day or two.”
“What were the symptoms?”
Lenora hesitated, wondering why he needed so much detail. “Do you really need to know all that? I’m fine now.”
“Glad to hear that,” he said. “So, what are you planning to do with the money?”
“I just bought a new BMW. I plan to start looking at houses soon. That’s it so far.”
“That’s a nice car,” he said. “What model?”
“750Li. I always dreamed of owning one and now I do. I couldn’t be happier with it.”
“Sounds great. Did you quit your job as a photographer?”
“That’s still up in the air. I love my work, but my boss is another story.”
He laughed lightly. “That’s the story of bosses everywhere probably. What’s going on with yours?”
“She’s too controlling, too demanding. A real pain at times. And now I don’t have to put up with her if I don’t want to.”
“I understand,” he said, keyboard clacking away.
“I’d like to start my own business eventually,” she continued. “Something to do with photography.”
She had expected Peter to ask her more questions about her plans to start a business. Instead, he quickly moved on to other subjects, firing off one question after another.
“What did your boss say when you told her you won the lottery?”
“At first she didn’t believe me. Then she acted like she was my new best friend.”
“What does your boyfriend think of all this?”
“He’s fine,” she said. “Very supportive.”
“How did your family react?”
“Do you have a financial adviser?” And so on and so on.
Lenora looked at her watch impatiently and began to cut her responses short. This was taking way too long. But she didn’t want to be rude and find out later that he had written something negative about her.
“Did you take all the money now or installments?”
“I took all of it.”
“Why the cash payment instead of an annuity?”
“That seemed to be best for me.”
As if he sensed her attention waning, he quickly thanked her and said good-bye. Lenora rushed out to walk Paws. As they circled the building, Lenora thought back over some of her responses to the reporter’s questions. She thought about the people who might read the article. Gerald, Monica, Dawna. She was beginning to suspect that she had blabbed too much. If he printed what she had said about Dawna, she might have blown her chances for reemployment at the Baltimore Scene.
She tried to cast her worries aside as she ran back up to the condo and dressed to meet Monica. But thoughts about the interview kept intruding even when she met Monica an hour later.
“That was really dumb,” she said to Monica after they both ordered flavored coffee. “If Dawna sees the article, I’m done at the magazine.”
Monica shrugged. “I think the Dispatch is basically a giveaway. There’s a good chance she won’t even see it.”
“Someone could see it and tell her about it.”
“Stop thinking the worst. And even if she sees it, so what? You don’t need that job anyway. I doubt you were ever going back now that you’re developing freelance opportunities.”
Monica had a point. “You’re probably right. But it was nice thinking I had the option.”
“So are you still meeting the landscaper tomorrow?”
“Yes, I’m really looking forward to that.”
“You over your crush on him?”
Lenora waved a hand nonchalantly. “I’m so past that. This is all business. Besides, I’m spoken for.”
“Sounds like what’s best for you,” Monica said. “Now if it was me, I’d probably be all over Ray. But you need someone more stable, more predictable. Someone like Gerald.”
“You make Gerald sound so boring.”
“Not at all. He’s perfect for you.”
“And you obviously don’t think I could handle a man like Ray,” Lenora said.
“No way. You would do something stupid like fall in love with him and get burned.”
“Don’t be so sure. A part of me has always wondered what it would be like to be like you.”
Monica frowned. “And what am I like? I’m dying to hear what you think.”
“Very available when you’re attracted to someone. You go after what you want and you have few hang-ups.”
Monica nodded. “No arguments there, but that’s not you. So don’t even try it.”
Lenora laughed.
“Have you talked to Alise since we were at P.F. Chang’s?” Monica asked.
Lenora stiffened. “Nope.”
“That’s too bad,” Monica said.
Lenora shrugged. “She changed after I won the money. And she’s too uppity.”
“That’s Alise. She’s always been that way.”
“True. Maybe I’m just less willing to tolerate it now.”
“You mean since you won the money?” Alise asked.
Lenora nodded. “I don’t know. For some reason it makes me less tolerant of crap like hers.”
“I think you two need to sit and talk,” Monica said. “If I arrange something, will you come?”
“Like what?” Lenora asked cautiously.
“I don’t know. A meeting at my place. I’ll slip out, let you two talk.”
“Hmm.”
“C’mon,” Monica pleaded. “It can’t hurt to try. You were friends for so long.”
Lenora nodded. “All right. But she may not even want to come.”
Monica nodded as Lenora’s cell rang. Lenora dug the phone out of her bag and noticed that she didn’t recognize the number.
“Should I even answer this?” she wondered aloud, then decided to pick up before she got a response. “Hello?”
“Lenora Stone?”
Something in the woman’s voice made Lenora regret picking up. Was this another nosy reporter? “Who’s calling?”
“My name is Lindsey. I’m with the Columbia Post.”
Lenora covered the mouthpiece. “Damn,” she whispered to Monica, “I knew I shouldn’t have answered. It’s a reporter.”
“You’re kidding,” Monica said.
“I wish. How on earth did they get this number?”
Monica shrugged. “The word is out, girl.”
Lenora went back to the phone. “I’m very busy now.”
“This will only take a minute,” the reporter insisted.
“I don’t have a minute. I’m with friends.”
“Just a couple of quick questions. What do you plan to do with the money?”
Lenora held the phone in front of her face and stared at it with disbelief. She had told this woman she was busy. “Sorry, but you asked for this.” She pressed the button to hang up and shook her head as she dumped her phone back into her bag. “I can’t believe how pushy these reporters are. It’s like they’re from another planet.”
“You’
re a hot item now,” Monica said. “A celeb.”
“This is the last thing I wanted, you know that. All this attention. I wonder if Dawna called them.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Who knows,” Lenora said. “The woman is insane. But these reporters started calling right after I told her I won.”
“However they found out, you’d better get used to them calling,” Monica said. “Things are probably going to get worse before they get better.”
“I sure hope you’re wrong about that.”
Chapter 27
The ringing telephone jolted Lenora awake. She forced her eyes open and checked the clock. It was placed at an angle and was hard to see, so she struggled up to reach it, cursing under her breath the entire time. Whatever the hour, it was Saturday and too darn early for anyone to be calling.
She got doubly upset when she noticed that it was only 7:15 a.m. If this was another one of those crazy reporters, she was going to yell at the top of her lungs until his ears fell off. She was really getting disgusted with this.
“Yeah,” she snapped as she grabbed the phone on the third ring.
“Hey, Lenora.”
It was another unfamiliar voice. “Who is this?” Lenora said curtly.
“It’s Melanie Franklin. Your cousin.”
Lenora frowned into the phone. She had no cousin named Melanie. And she didn’t know any Franklins. “Sorry, you must have the wrong number.”
“I don’t think so. My mother is Stephanie Johnson. She and your mama are cousins.”
Lenora still didn’t know who this woman was. Had never heard of her. But Lenora’s mother’s maiden name was Johnson. And this caller had a slight southern accent, just like her mother. So maybe the caller really was a distant relative—a very distant one.
“We met at the family reunion down in Virginia a few years ago,” Melanie continued.
“Oh, right,” Lenora said, pretending to remember as she struggled to sit all the way up. The reunion was actually more like ten years ago, but it seemed as if Melanie really was a relative. As distant as the relationship was and as annoyed as she felt about being disturbed at seven on a Saturday morning, this was family. She had to try to be civil. “How are you?”
“I’m doing all right. I heard you won the lottery. Congratulations!”
“Oh, thanks,” Lenora said, rubbing her eyes to fully wake herself. “You’re definitely an early riser.”
“I am these days anyway. Got a lot on my mind.”
“Oh?”
“Lost my job a few months ago because of the economy.”
“That’s rough,” Lenora said, starting to feel anxious about what she suspected was coming.
“Ain’t it the truth,” Melanie said. “I’d probably be all right with my savings, but I bought a house a few years back. I spent all my savings trying to keep up with the mortgage, and now I’m having a real hard time trying to make the payments. And I can’t sell ’cause I owe more than it’s worth.”
“Uh-huh.” Been there, done that, Lenora thought. Please don’t remind me.
“Yeah, I’m probably going to lose this house,” Melanie said.
“I really am sorry to hear that. Don’t you have family who can help out?” Lenora regretted the words the moment they slipped out.
“That’s exactly why I’m calling,” Melanie said. “I was wondering if you might be able to help me.”
Lenora pinched her lips tight. “Actually, what I meant was your parents or siblings or someone closer like that.”
“My dad died a few years ago and my mom lives with me. That’s one of the reasons I bought the house, to have room for her since she has diabetes. And she really doesn’t have much except a small social security payment.”
“I see.”
“And my brother… you know about him?”
“Can’t say that I do.”
“Girl, he’s wasted,” Melanie said. “He hasn’t worked in years. He never could keep a job, and what money he gets he spends on booze. I’m not even sure where he’s at right now. He’s worse off than me.”
Lenora sighed deeply. She knew this was coming. She had been expecting it ever since she won. But she also thought she would easily be able to say “No, get lost.” The reality was different. This was her mom’s family. And that meant it was hers, too. “How much money are you talking about?”
“My mortgage is about twenty-five hundred a month,” Melanie said.
“How much are you behind?”
Lenora could hear Melanie shuffling through papers on the other end of the line. “A few months now. If I could get caught up on those payments, that would be a big help. Girl, you don’t even know.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And I got some medical bills I still owe on ’cause I don’t have health insurance anymore. I had surgery on my knee and I got arthritis in my hands real bad. I take pressure medicine, but I haven’t been able to buy that for months now, trying to keep the lights on. I could go on, but I don’t want to burden you too bad.”
“How much are the medical bills?” Lenora asked.
“About five thousand. Yeah, that’s about right.”
“So you need about twelve or thirteen thousand altogether?” Lenora asked.
“Fifteen should do it,” Melanie said. “There’s a few other bills I owe on. I’m hoping that by next month I can find a job since the economy is getting a little better and I’m out here looking every day. Then I’ll be able to handle the bills myself again. I mean, I hate to even ask you for this kind of money, but I’m pretty desperate.” Melanie laughed nervously.
“It’s fine. I’ll send you a check this week.”
“Really?” Melanie said, her voice clearly excited. “Oh, Lord. I don’t even know how to thank you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” The truth was, while it was a lot of money to Melanie, it wasn’t much to her anymore. She wouldn’t even miss it.
“I’m going to include you in my prayers,” Melanie said. “You had some real good luck lately so you’re obviously blessed, but we can all use more praying, right? Oh, yeah. How have you been feeling lately?”
“Excuse me?” Lenora asked.
“The article in the Dispatch said you haven’t been feeling good since you won. Everything all right?”
Lenora explained that she was fine now and then took Melanie’s address. All the while she could feel her body temperature rising. She wasn’t upset with Melanie. No, she was mad at the Northeast Dispatch for intruding into her private life and publishing her business all over the place.
As soon as they hung up, Lenora got out of bed and switched on her computer. She no longer got newspapers delivered to her door. Instead, she read her news online or watched CNN.
She checked the home page of the Northeast Dispatch and was horrified to realize that this online site was a sort of regional version of the National Enquirer. Across the page were titles with phrases like “sex psycho” and “love-murder triangle”—one sensationalistic story after another. She found Peter Jackson’s article about her lottery winnings and read it. She couldn’t believe how titillating he had made the story. It was one of the tamer pieces in the trashy rag, but it was still garbage.
She realized that she had said too much as soon as she and the reporter had hung up. But she prayed that Peter would show a little mercy. Instead, he zeroed in on and exaggerated every single vulnerability. He talked about how the winnings freaked her out and how she was “violently ill” and “bedridden” for a week. How the first thing she did when she recovered was to run out and buy a luxury car. Worst of all, he said that she loathed her “bitchy” boss at the Baltimore Scene. Lenora couldn’t believe how this reporter had maliciously twisted her words to create a more sensationalistic story.
By the time she finished reading the article, she was close to tears. She sat back and stared at the computer with disbelief. But as angry as she was with this Peter person, she was also extremely upset wit
h herself. Why hadn’t she kept her mouth shut? Why didn’t she check the publication out before agreeing to talk? Well, there wasn’t anything she could do now except pray that no one would read this junk besides Melanie.
She picked a tissue up from her desk and dabbed the corners of her eyes. She needed to clear her head. She did not want this clouding her mind when she met Ray for lunch. She blew her nose and focused on getting up and ready for her meeting.
A few hours later, just as she started to apply a little blush to her cheeks, the phone rang. She thought to ignore it, believing it could be another nuisance reporter or a needy relative, but then decided to answer. It could be Ray calling to cancel or something. She really hoped not. She was so looking forward to their meeting.
She walked to the kitchen and picked up the wall phone when she saw that it was Gerald.
“Hey, what’s up?” came Gerald’s voice on the line.
She was surprised to hear from him. He had said he was going into the office that Saturday morning and would call her later tonight. She leaned against the countertop, relieved that it was not a reporter. “Hi, I thought you were working all day today.”
“Changed my mind. I made more progress than I expected to, so a few hours is enough. Thought I would give my woman a call and maybe drive out your way when I leave here in a few. What you got planned for this afternoon? Shopping?”
“Actually, I’m about to go meet a client.”
“On a Saturday?”
“It’s a freelance job,” she said. “I’m designing a brochure.”
“Still, on the weekend? Seems odd.”
“This was the best time for him.”
“You said him? Who is this?” Gerald asked. “You never mentioned this before and you usually tell me everything. Or you used to.”
“He’s that landscaper we did the feature on for the Baltimore Scene. He liked my work a lot and asked if I’d help him with the photographs and the layout for a brochure for his business.”
“Cool,” Gerald said. “Just surprised you never told me before now. So how long do you expect to be out?”
“It’s hard to say.”
“It can’t take that much time to talk about a little brochure.”
Lenora hated it when Gerald belittled her work. “A little brochure, as you put it, can take a lot of planning to do right. And it may not be just a brochure. He needs materials to promote himself. Business cards, flyers, e-mail blasts, things like that.”
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