“Family Matters (In the Best Interest of the Child Book 2)”
Olivia Chandler’s day of reckoning fast approaches. Start her journey from the beginning!
“In The Best Interest of the Child Book 1”
Returning the teakettle to the stove, he stumbled but righted himself before falling face first into the large casserole dish of Marti’s prize-winning cornbread dressing.
Cal placed both hands on the counter to make sure he was steady, then picked up the two mugs of steaming cocoa. He took his time, each step slow and deliberate as he made his way back to Marti in the family room.
The smile she greeted him with made his heart swell just as the sadness in her eyes gripped the same heart.
“Here you go, sugar plum. One hot cocoa, extra cocoa and no marshmallows.”
“Thank you, honey.”
This time the smile she gifted him with was genuine. The bright flecks of gold and amber in her dark brown eyes glowed and never failed to bring a smile to his face.
She was everything to him.
Cal set his own mug on the low table in front of the sofa before easing down next to his wife.
“That hip acting up?”
“Hips, knees, arms, elbows,” he chuckled, “I am joint pain personified.”
Marti sat forward, a worried look on her face.
“Should I get you a pain pill? Or would you like a rubdown with some of that new joint cream?”
Cal pulled her back close to him. “No, pumpkin. I am fine. This is our last night alone during our last Christmas-season here. I’ll not spend it lying around worried about aches and pains. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and the tribe is descending upon us. I’m cuddling with my woman while I can.”
Resting her head on his shoulder, Marti sighed. “I can’t believe after all these years, it’s over.”
“What?” Cal pulled away and raised her chin to see her eyes. “What’s over, Marti?”
She gestured around the room with one arm. “This. Our life on the farm.”
“No, Marti. This is not an ending. We’re starting a new chapter, taking a different path, going on an adventure. Call it what you will, but nothing’s over, pudding.”
“Cal, this is where you were born, just like your father… and his father. The cemetery on the other side of the apple orchard holds half of your family. This just seems wrong. I’m still not sure we should leave.”
“Are you kidding? I am grateful we can leave. Farms aren’t selling the way they used to. Cal, Jr. negotiated a great price for us.” He kissed her hand. “We’ve lived a wonderful life here. We’ve raised livestock and farmed just about every vegetable under the sun. We had a dairy farm and even had scenes from two movies filmed in the orchard. I’ve loved every minute. But it’s time for a change.”
“I can’t help but feel like it’s my fault we-,”
“Martha Ann Dempsey! We’ve had this conversation… several times. This is no one’s fault. There is no blame. We have worked side-by-side for fifty-three years, only taking time off when you had the kids, and then to visit them after they left and started families of their own. It’s past time for us to enjoy more of this life we worked so hard to build.”
She took his hand and brought it to her lips, planting a small kiss then holding it against her cheek.
“We have had a good life, haven’t we?”
Cal looked at her, considering her question. The laugh lines around her eyes had multiplied over the years, and the body once lean and robust from long days spent working at his side and taking care of their six children, was now soft and plump. The once dark chestnut hair was now snow white, but still long and thick. He couldn’t even tell a patch had been shaved away where the small bandage now rested over her right ear. All Cal Dempsey could see was the sixteen-year-old beauty who kissed him on the cheek for retrieving her school work after a gust of wind scattered papers everywhere as they walked home from school.
“No, we haven’t had a good life, cupcake, we have a great life, and it’s not over yet. Now drink up. Your cocoa’s getting cold.”
Reaching for their mugs, they drank in silence enjoying each other’s company.
Cal’s mug was almost empty before he spoke again.
“I love this cocoa, but I should have added rum to my cup.”
Marti grinned, shaking her head and cast a side-eye glance at him. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
He pursed his lips and looked up at the ceiling as though trying to remember and shook his head.
“No. No… not since lunch. You’re late.”
She giggled like a school girl, set her mug down and snuggled deep into his arms.
“I love you Calvin Thomas Dempsey, and I’m grateful for the life we lived here.”
“Six kids… six college graduates. Few folks can say that. They’re all happy and successful and would do anything for us.”
“There were days I thought I’d pull my hair out. TVs and stereos blaring. Six kids practicing six different instruments. Sibling rivalry. And they each had their own dog! What were we thinking? What a madhouse.” Marti grinned. “But, I’d do it all again.”
“Me too, peanut. Some of our friends went through some bad times, but we were blessed. No major kid rebellions or catastrophes. And despite droughts and floods, and skyrocketing prices, we’ve always made it. We did good, Mrs. Dempsey.”
Marti pressed her lips together stifling a laugh.
“What?”
“What about ’94… when the washing machine exploded?”
Cal slapped his free hand against his forehead.
“I never realized how much water a washing machine held. That was a nightmare.”
Marti smacked his chest.
“Oh please. Between the manufacturer and our homeowner’s insurance, all you had to do was sign your name. I was the one who had to pack up dirty farm clothes and drive seventeen miles to the nearest laundromat.”
“And you did it with a smile!”
“Yes, I did!”
“You also smiled when I fell off the roof in ’96.”
She covered her mouth, hiding her toothy grin.
“Look at you. Over twenty years later, and the memory still amuses you. Shameless woman! Laughing at your husband’s pain.”
“Oh, you know I’d never laugh at your pain… and you only broke your wrist. But the sound you made as you dropped to the ground? That was priceless. I’m sure they heard it in downtown Shoney.”
Narrowing his eyes, Cal stuck his tongue out at his longtime bride.
Marti scoffed at Cal’s silliness and burrowed down into her husband’s side again.
He watched the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree, content.
Cal thought Marti had drifted into an easy sleep when he felt her body tightened against him.
“Honey?”
She fisted his shirt collar as he heard her first soft sobs.
“I’m scared, Cal.”
Wrapping both arms around her, Cal kissed his wife’s forehead.
“I know, sweetie pie, I know.”
Pulling away and sitting up, Marti swiped the errant tears away.
“I know you try to distract me so I won’t think about it, Cal. But what if the doctors are wrong? What if it’s not as easy as they believe? You’ll have lost your family home for nothing.”
Cal sat up, cupping his wife’s face. “Stop, baby. Please?”
“But-,”
He silenced her with a soft kiss.
“But nothing. Marti, we should have left here ten years ago when my knees started giving me problems. But I was pig-headed and stubborn as usual, and you never put up a fuss.”
“I only wanted you to be happy.”
“Make me happy now and stop acting as though you’re ruining my life.”
A lone tear slid down her face. Marti raised her hand to the bandage over her right ear. The biopsy proved the tumor wasn’t malignant, but it was increasing in size. Even with the good news the growth wasn’t cancerous doctors warned that might not always be the case. If it continued its rate of growth, Marti’s headaches would worsen, and she might experience some impairment to the left side of her body due to the pressure the growing mass could cause.
She pulled her husband into a tight hug, whispering in his ear. “I’ll try my love. I promise I’ll try. I know this is our last Christmas here, I just don’t want it to be our last Christmas together.”
He pulled back enough to see her face.
“Woman, I’ve got big plans for us. We’re officially condo owners. This time next month, we’ll be all moved in and you’ll be recuperating from your surgery. Then I’ll have these rotten joints taken care of and by summer, we’ll be professional senior citizens. Cute and annoying as we flash our AARP cards near and far.”
Marti laughed, caressing his cheek. “What am I going to do with you?”
Cal cleared his throat. “I was getting to that.”
“To what?”
“Well, this time tomorrow, it will be you and me… and six kids, three daughters-in-law, two sons-in-law, fourteen grandchildren, and three great-grands. It will be loud and crazy here. A 747 could land in the dining room and we wouldn’t know it.”
“True. So…?”
“So, I was thinking. You could trim a couple of slices off that steer masquerading as a rib roast and make me a snack…”
Marti raised an eyebrow. “Or?”
His devilish grin told her what was coming.
“You could take me in the bedroom and be my snack.”
Her grin matched his as she ran her hand over his chest.
“Calvin, Calvin, Calvin. Don’t you know people our age aren’t supposed to still be having sex? All the magazines say so.”
Cal scoffed as he released her and stood, showing his traitorous joints he was still in charge. He pulled Marti from the sofa and into his arms.
“Those articles are written by soulless thirty-year-olds using apps to find love. They’re all bitter they swiped left when they should have swiped right.”
Marti chuckled as she took his hand, leading him from the room.
“I believe I will take option B, after which you get option A.”
“Woo-hoo! I love the way you think, my little hot tamale.”
“Cal?”
“Yes, muffin?”
“Stop calling me food names.”
Her husband roared with laughter… and was still laughing when he closed the bedroom door.
Free, a Novella
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The diminutive nurse seated before Olivia appeared to enjoy taking rudeness to new heights.
“This is the Critical Care Unit. We simply cannot have anyone off the street waltz in here and upset our patients. Mr. Averest is a very sick man and needs his rest.”
Olivia let the obvious insult pass, but was tiring of this chick’s attitude.
“I’ve told you who I am, showed you my identification, and told you why I’m here. If you cannot allow me in to see Mr. Averest, perhaps you can tell me who his physician of record is? I’ll speak with him or her and get written permission to see Mr. Averest. Will that satisfy you?”
The nurse smirked.
“I thought you said you’re a lawyer? Then you should know it’s against the law for me to give you patient information and – “
Olivia cut her off.
“It’s against the law for you give me medical information, and I haven’t asked you for any.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway because Mr. Averest’s attorney left express instructions for staff not to speak with anyone about his condition or let anyone see him.” The irritating woman stood, adjusted her smock and walked to the other end of the counter.
Olivia frowned.
“His attorney?”
“Did I stutter?”
Rage gripped Olivia. She’d had enough of this self-important little twit.
“Did this attorney have Mr. Averest’s power of attorney, or legal documents appointing him as guardian?”
The nurse’s face fell.
“I don’t know, but- “
“So, you’re telling me you allowed someone to just waltz in here off the street and tell you what to do without knowing if they even had the legal right to?”
The nurse’s face went from pink to a deep shade of red.
“I-I…he said…” she reached for the phone. “I’ve had enough of you! I’m calling security!”
Olivia crossed her arms on the counter and smiled.
“Please do. And while I wait for them, let me tell what’s going to happen next.”
The woman stopped dialing and glared at Olivia.
“After I’m escorted from the building, I’m heading back to Spring Falls… and the judge who assigned me to this case. I will tell him how uncooperative you were, and how you refused to allow me to see Duncan Averest or even tell me who his physician is, making it impossible for me to do the job he appointed me to do. I’ll also tell him how you caused me public embarrassment by having me removed from the building. I know this judge. He hates people getting in his way. So, guess what? He’ll get on the phone and talk with this hospital’s administrators and warn them to get their legal department ready because I’ll be returning with a pile of injunctions and contempt of court citations. And one of them will have your name on it,” she glanced at the woman’s employee badge for the first time, “Katrina.”
Olivia grabbed her laptop bag and purse and headed for the elevators. “I’ll wait over here for security.”
“He’s in 3502.”
Olivia fought to keep the smile off her face. She turned and looked at the woman, then glanced down the hallway of patients’ rooms. Returning her gaze to the woman who had given her such a bad time, Olivia almost felt guilty for the fear she saw in her eyes. Almost. Without another word, she went in search of room 3502.
Attempting to shake off her encounter with Nurse Know-it-all, Olivia stopped abruptly when she entered 3502. Her anger returned with a vengeance when she realized she’d been deliberately given the wrong room number.
She was going to bury this hospital in contempt of court citations!
“In the Best Interest of the Child”
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Murphy’s Family Restaurant topped Corwin’s annual food listing of favorite places to eat.
It wasn’t gourmet fare, secret recipes, or old family recipes which brought the crowds in, but the folksy, down-to-earth atmosphere found there 6 am to 9 pm seven days a week.
Third generation owner, Joe Murphy, welcomed every patron who walked through the door, and if he wasn’t available, his wife, Silvia, did.
Joe, Silvia, and the wait staff would have rolling conversations and included patrons. Topics were light, easy and fun. It wasn’t unusual for calls to come in inquiring not about the daily special, but what was the current topic of the day.
Analeigh Sellers pulled into Murphy’s parking lot at five minutes to six. Exiting her rental, she grinned when she saw Walt Gaskins leaning against a signpost near the entrance.
“How many demerits did you get for being late before you arrived early to everything?”
Ana laughed aloud.
“Believe it or not, I’ve never received a demerit for anything… and I’ve never been late.”
Walt threw his hands up in the air.
“Oh, my god, you’re a drill sergeant’s dream come true. Poster girl for the military.”
They both laughed as Walt opened the door for Ana and they headed for the wait stand.
“I said I never received demerits, but I was far from a DS’s dream recruit.”
Before Ana could continue, a loud bellow came from the other side of the restaurant.
“Walt. Hey. It’s always good to see you in the place.”
Without an ounce of shame, the large man gave Ana an appraising once over and nodded in approval.
“Walt, my man, your taste has improved a thousand percent. Introduce me to your beautiful friend.”
Walt and Ana’s smirks matched.
“You don’t recognize her?”
“Like I could forget these eyes. I never for-” Resting a hand on his waist, the confused man raised the other to scratch his head. Tilting his head, he stared at Ana again. His eyes widened in recognition.
“Analeigh?”
She looked from him to Walt and back.
“We’ve met?”
Walt explained.
“Analeigh, this is Joe Murphy, Jr. His family lived just outside the city limits and he didn’t go to our high school, but he spent a lot of time in town… working here and hanging out with the guys.”
“So, we never met.”
It was a statement, not a question.
“No, but I saw you around. I always thought you were so pretty. You left a big impression on me. I always hoped I’d see you whenever I came to town.”
“Thank you, Joe.”
“Dude, can we get a booth or are you going to keep drooling over my date?”
Joe, Jr. roared with laughter and gestured for the couple to follow him.
Ana wasn’t feeling the calm that showed on her face. Anxiety buzzed in her head while she tried to ignore Walt’s remark.
Date? He called her his date. Walt was over-the-top hot and gorgeous, but she only had room for one man in her head and her heart. She hoped Walt was simply using a figure of speech.
“How’s this?”
“Perfect, Joe. Thanks, man.”
“No problem. Wait staff will be right over. Enjoy.”
He looked at Ana again and walked away with a smile on his face.
Ana settled into the booth and admired the view from the large tempered window.
Acorn Fields, the city’s biggest park, stretched out for miles behind Murphy’s. Despite the evening hour, the vibrant colors of spring were still visible under the setting sun.
“Okay, remember I told you it’s meatloaf day, and it is amazing.”
“I had it a time or two when I came here with Rosie. Can’t remember if I liked it or not.”
Walt clutched his chest, feigning shock.
“That’s blasphemy. Everyone loves Murphy’s meatloaf. And order the mashed potatoes. They’re made fresh… no instant tater flakes here.”
Ana pushed her menu aside and folded her arms in front of her the table.
“Okay, but if I don’t like it, I’ll forever question your judgment.”
He mimicked her action with his arms.
“That’s fair.”
Walt’s smiled dimmed.
“How does it feel to be back, Analeigh?”
“Not as bad as I thought it would, but still a little unsettling. But I think it’s because Rosie’s gone.”
“You guys were close, huh?”
Ana shrugged a shoulder. “She made it bearable. I don’t know where I’d be today If I didn’t have Rosie in my life.”
Walt fidgeted in his seat.
“Analeigh… about when we were kids-”
“Thank you, Walt, but we need not rehash that. It won’t change the past.”
“I need you to understand. I never believed all those things I heard about you. Most kids didn’t. But it wasn’t just mean girls like Macy and Judy fueling the fire with rumors. Some of us had parents just as bad.”
“Walt, it wasn’t a fun time in my life, but it-”
“I’m sorry, Analeigh. I wanted to be your friend, but-”
The occasional glances cast her way from other customers since they entered were now outright stares. Swallowing her anxiety again, Ana touched Walt’s arm.
“It’s okay… honest. I’m fine. Let’s talk about something else.”
Walt ducked his head with a bashful grin.
“Thank you for being so gracious, Analeigh.”
Gracious? Was she being ‘gracious?’
Ana flashed a benign smile at Walt and ducked her head. She was glad Walt didn’t know this non-date was instead a trial-by-fire for her before the eyes of Corwin.
©Felicia Denise 2017
52-Week Writing Challenge: Week 48
NaNoWriMo is over, but the writing continues. This is another excerpt of my WIP, Sacrificial Daughter, currently at 62K. This is part of a memory Ana has which led to major changes in her life and changed its direction.
Analeigh exited Dot’s Five & Dime clutching the bag which held her new spiral notebooks and pencils. She headed for home, eager to get to the solitude of her bedroom and add to her story Sadia, the Beloved African Princess.
Excited, Ana planned the wedding scene between Sadia and mighty warrior, Manu Owon, in her mind. She didn’t hear the group of girls approaching her from behind until they surrounded her.
Macy Burford and Judy Lake each gripped one of Ana’s elbows, pulling her along at a brisk pace.
“What are you doing? Let go of me!” Ana pulled and tugged to break free, but stopped when she felt Macy’s nails dig into her skin through the thin jacket she wore.
“Aww, calm down, Analeigh. We only want to hang out with you,” Judy cooed.
“No, you don’t. We’re not friends. Let go!” Ana stopped, trying to wrench herself free, but a sharp jab to her left shoulder caught her off guard. She turned her head to find Angela Feltner glaring at her. Next to Angela stood Corinne Beeman, her eyes filled with sympathy and fear.
Macy jerked Ana forward. “C’mon. We don’t have much time.
“Where are we going? Macy, what do you want from me? Just let me go. I won’t tell anyone.”
The taller girl scoffed and responded through gritted teeth.
“I don’t give a damn who you tell. No one will believe the town whore’s bastard daughter.”
Ana accepted what her mother was long ago. She could do nothing to change it. But being reminded of her anonymous father stung.
“Macy, just let me go. Judy, please. I have to get home before dark.”
Angela giggled. “Why is that, Analeigh? Do you have to help your mama service her men? Is that it, Analeigh? You raising your dress and spreading your legs for a long line of men every night?”
“You’re disgusting!”
Angela clipped Ana’s shoulder with a balled fist.
“Don’t call me disgusting… that’s your mama, not mine-”
“And what she does has nothing to do with me.”
Despite the late afternoon’s cool breeze, perspiration trickled the length of Ana’s back, fueled not by fear but anger.
Where were they taking her? What did they want? What gave them the right to control her?
The group reached the corner and turned right on Mt. Pleasant Boulevard.
“Shut your mouth and keep moving.”
Jaywalking, they crossed the desolate side street.
Ana realized they were heading straight for the back entrance of Symphony Park.
“Why are we going to the park? C’mon, you guys, let me go. Please?”
“We want to spend time with our friend, pretty Analeigh Sellers. We want to know how you always have the answers and get all those A’s. You doing special favors for teachers after school, Analeigh?” Macy smirked, marring her plain features even more.
Once the group was through the gate, Macy shoved Ana to the ground.
Ana threw her hands out and caught herself, her mouth mere inches away from the dirty, cracked cement. Pain shot through her wrist and heightened her anger.
“What the hell do you want?”
Macy leaned toward her. “If I had my way, you’d die, Analeigh. You and your slut of a mother make me sick.”
The crazed look in Macy’s eyes confused Ana, but anger won out. She kicked her leg out, catching Macy in the shin. Ana rolled to the right, missing the hard stomp of Angela’s booted foot.
Ana jumped to her feet, ignoring the pain of her injured wrist.
“Why do you hate me? What did I do to you? None of you even know me.”
“Pretty Analeigh. Smart Analeigh,” Angela mimicked. “You’re a whore’s daughter, which makes you a whore. But the boys and teachers think you’re so wonderful.”
Ana shook her head, her eyes full of sadness.
“You’re wrong. No one thinks I’m wonderful.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Macy bellowed. “None of it matters.”
All eyes were on Macy as she pulled a large pair of silver-plated scissors from her bag.
“You need a haircut, Analeigh.”
Thirty minutes passed before Ana Sellers returned Jeff Russell’s call. Expecting a receptionist or machine, she was surprised when Jeff answered the phone.
“Russell and Peters, may I help you?”
“I’m returning a call to Jeff Russell.”
“Analeigh?”
Pulling the phone away from her ear, Ana stared at it, incredulous. He knew her? Sixteen years had passed since the day she left Corwin without looking back.
“You know me?”
You were a year ahead of me in school.”
The name still didn’t ring any bells so she would have to take his word for it.
“I see. And now you’re an attorney in Corwin.?”
“Yes, my cousin, Adam, and I took over the practice from our dads about seven years ago.”
“And… and why d-do you need to speak to me, Jeff? What is the urgency?”
Silence was his response.
“Jeff? Still there?”
“Yes, I’m here. I’ve been looking for you for over two weeks.”
“Please tell me what this is about and why you’ve been looking for me.”
She heard an exhale escape from him, gruff and harsh.
“Analeigh, Rosie Chastain passed away.”
Ana froze. Rosie? Gone? No. No way. She spoke to her dear friend… three weeks ago. Damn it. Rosie said she was coming down with a cold but was looking forward to flying to Georgia in July to see her good friend and surrogate daughter.
Ana pulled at her chest, trying to ease the pain gnawing at her heart.
“W-What happened?”
“Heart failure. She told everyone she had a cold, but it was pneumonia. Her heart wasn’t strong enough to handle it. Rosie had a heart attack and slipped into a coma. Three days later, she coded. There was nothing the doctors could do.”
Her dear friend was gone. Ana’s skin prickled with anxiety as she fought to keep grief from overwhelming her.
“Jeff, how did you find me? What made you even look for me?”
“Like I said, it took some time, Analeigh. Rosie didn’t get out much the last few years. The few people she did talk to said she was disgusted with the changes and direction of Corwin.”
Ana knew that was true.
She tried to avoid the subject of Corwin when she and Rosie talked. Ana didn’t need memories of the place flashing through her mind, and Rosie said it decayed into nothing more than a political cesspool. The town’s first families — the Burfords, Foleys, and Lakes held all the offices of power. They treated Corwin like it was their personal kingdom and speaking out against them killed social standing and sometimes worse.
“Rosie had no family, and at the beginning, we thought she had no will. After wading through the legalities, we were able to enter her home. We found her will, drawn up by an attorney over in Spradlin. We also found your name and number, but the number was disconnected.”
Damn it! After a mini-battle with her cell provider over dropped calls and shoddy service, Ana switched carriers… and got a new number… four days after she and Rosie last spoke.
Analeigh didn’t bother to wipe away her tears when she realized by the time she activated her new number… Rosie was already gone.
“Analeigh?”
“I’m here, Jeff. Just trying to take all this in.”
“I’m sorry to have to tell you like this, Analeigh.”
“It’s alright. I do appreciate the call, Jeff… and thank you.”
“Wait, Analeigh. I didn’t hunt you done just to tell you Rosie was gone. In her will, she left everything to you. Her home and the store.”
The buzzing in Ana’s ears roared over Jeff’s voice. Analeigh Sellers sat there overwhelmed and in shock with a sense of dread taking over.
For almost forty years, the Chase-Holland Veteran’s Outreach Center warmly welcomed military veterans from all over the country.
Named for Graham Chase and Lawrence Holland—two twenty-one-year-old Army privates killed in action during the Vietnam War, the center never charged veterans for any services received, and they never turned anyone away.
As a twenty-two-year-old Army clerk, Richard Chase, who was ten when his older brother was killed, found out Graham and another soldier, Lawrence Holland, had sacrificed their lives by drawing fire away from a small group of women and children fleeing an attack on their village.
An unpopular war with much of the U.S. in the sixties, countless acts of courage and bravery were never acknowledged.
After leaving the Army two years later, Richard Chase enrolled in college full-time. While studying to become a history teacher, he began a campaign tell the story of his brother, Holland, and so many others who made the ultimate sacrifice while serving in Vietnam. A university professor who’d lost an older brother in the Korean War joined Richard’s campaign and steered his influential friends and university alumni to Richard. What started out as an idea for a book grew into a fund for a memorial.
When it was learned the growing homeless population included veterans, Richard knew what his ‘memorial’ would be… a center where vets could go anytime—day or night— and receive a meal, a place to rest, and assistance to end their homelessness.
Two wealthy brothers heard about the campaign and wanted to help. One made a sizable cash donation and the other donated a piece of property just outside of West Hollywood.
The Chase-Holland Veteran’s Outreach Center opened its doors in March of 1990 and served tens of thousands of veterans over the years by helping them find housing, apply for vet benefits, and get medical and psychological treatment.
Quinn Landon was relieved to find street parking in front of the center. More than a few car doors and fenders had received nicks, dents, and scratches in the tiny center parking lot located behind the building.
“Hey, Fred. Our girl is back.”
Grinning, Quinn didn’t have to turn around to know who was shouting from across the street–Noel Adams, Vietnam war vet, cancer survivor, dialysis patient and recently, diagnosed with diabetes.
A well-known figure at the center and in the community, seventy-year-old Noel sat in his wheelchair on the tiny porch of his bungalow across the street from Chase-Holland.
Fred Alizo waved to Quinn as she exited her car.
“Woman, if I could run I’d hightail it over there and kiss you.”
More reserved than his neighbor, Fred’s remark surprised both Quinn and Noel.
Shaking her head at her two favorite troublemakers, Quinn crossed the street to hug Fred. She crossed their short side street to hug Noel.
“We thought you’d forgotten about us, young’un.”
Fred spoke up before she could respond.
“What he said was you probably had a baby and mommy-duties.”
Noel flipped Fred off as Quinn looked back and forth between the two men.
The realization her pending divorce no doubt cost her a chance at being a mother flashed through Quinn’s mind. She pushed it aside and chuckled.
“Sorry, guys. Life got busy… Super busy. While I do love my job, I realized I missed doing other things I love too, like spending time with friends.”
The two men beamed.
Leaving Noel’s yard, she backed the few short steps to the corner, still talking to the vets.
“Let me get inside, get caught up and work for a few hours…” Quinn stopped at the corner. “And when I’m done,” she pointed at each man. “…and if you’ve managed to stay out of trouble, maybe I can catch up with you guys… over pastrami burgers.”
“Don’t worry, Quinn. I’ll keep Noel out of trouble.”
Giving Fred the ‘thumb’s up’ gesture, Quinn roared with laughter at the annoyed look on Noel’s face.
She was still laughing as she entered the center.
An hour late, Olivia strode past Margot’s desk, her eyes focused on her office door.
Margot watched her pass, unhappy with what she was about to do. Setting her workstation to away status, she followed her boss into Olivia’s office.
Olivia appeared not notice Margot’s presence and fumbled around, pulling out her laptop and opening file folders.
Standing near the door, Margot folded her arms across her chest… and waited. She watched Olivia move folders around her desk several times before placing them in their original positions.
Lost in thought, the attorney remained standing at her desk, head bowed. When at last she looked up, Olivia was startled at seeing Margot.
“What’s wrong?”
“You tell me, Olivia. You’ve been in a fog since you got here… late. You’re never late.”
“We all have off days, Schultz.”
“You don’t. Not when it comes to your job.”
“Well, guess I’m due then, huh?”
“Maybe. Olivia, what’s-”
“How’s the day shaping up? Bowers custody hearing at one, right? Does Louis have the background check done for the Nealy case?”
“Yes, the background check is back… and on your desk,” she gestured at the mess Olivia had created, “somewhere. Mr. Bowers has asked for a thirty-day continuance and Mrs. Bowers isn’t arguing against it. Judge Whelan is ready to grant it as long as you don’t have a problem with the custody arrangement for the kids.”
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
“I have no problem with the custody arrangement.”
Margot glared at her boss as her patience wore thin.
“I haven’t told you what the arrangements are yet, Olivia.”
A pained look marred Olivia’s features. She fell back into her chair… silent.
Margot turned and closed the office door. Her brow knitted with worry, she took a seat in front of Olivia’s desk.
“Talk to me. Olivia, what happened?”
“I’m fine, Margot. It’s an off day. It hap-”
“Stop it.”
Leaning forward, the office manager’s voice hardened. Her eyes bored into Olivia.
“You were late. You didn’t take any of my calls or texts. You haven’t taken any of Bruce’s calls and the man is crazy with worry. He drove by your house twice last night and wanted to call the police when you weren’t there. You don’t want to talk about it, fine. But we care about you, Olivia, and we don’t deserve to be treated like we don’t matter.”
Margot stood and walked toward the door, still talking. “Please let me know how you want to proceed after you read the Bowers custody arrangements.”
Olivia’s shoulders slumped, shame bearing down on her. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. As Margot reached for the doorknob, Olivia called out but for all her effort, her voice was low, soft and quavered.
“Margot, I’m sorry.”
The offended woman stopped, leaving the door closed but she also didn’t turn around.
“You’re right. I’m being unfair. I-I… don’t know why I have such a problem processing-”
Margot whirled around. “Olivia, dammit! What happened?”
Grief and anxiety won. Olivia wilted deeper into her chair as the first tear fell.
“Willis died last night.”
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