Part 5 (1/2)
Renee popped a bubble. ”Ooh, yeah. I read that one. Real messed up, huh? She should cut him some slack, though. Everybody's got to work. It paid for that fancy wedding, didn't it?”
”I suppose it did.” But was it worth it? Could a price tag be put on love, or as Tad put it, ”spiritual intimacy?” I sighed, wis.h.i.+ng my bad feelings about Ryan hadn't proved true, at least not this soon. I stared at the clock, figuring the time until I'd be able to call Roch.e.l.le.
Renee fluffed her hair with her fingertips. ”You could learn something from that Tracey and her husband. Start your own business. For real, like in the mall or somethin'. Your stuff smells way better than the sorry mess we sell here. Why do you think Naomi stays on you so tough?” She smoothed her hairspray-soaked fingertips down her sweater.
Yuck.
”Shoot girl, your stuff is better than Fingerhut. And Lord knows I loves me some Fingerhut-”
The phone rang and I smiled, praying it was for me. Renee was my girl and all, but I just wasn't up for a two-hour discourse on the merits of Fingerhut. Contrary to popular opinion, being compared to the ill.u.s.trious catalog company wasn't my idea of a compliment.
I held my breath, hoping I'd say the right words to Tracey. ”h.e.l.lo?”
”Hey.” Wrong friend. Roch.e.l.le sounded tired, like her after-hours self. ”Did you get that e-mail?”
”Just got it.” Tracey's e-mail made me sad, too, but nothing usually taxed Roch.e.l.le's pep during working hours. She was on until the door swung shut at six. Right now she sounded like roadkill. ”Ryan will have a lot of making up to do, but I'm sure they can work it out.”
That or I'd be flying to Hawaii to get her somehow. Was cocoa b.u.t.ter returnable? Why didn't these things ever happen on a weekend?
I turned to Renee. ”I'm going to take this in the break room, okay? Mark me for thirty minutes. If anybody needs me, I'll be in there.” The ”break room” was actually just Tracey's empty cubicle, but it sounded good.
Filing at her nails as if trying to free herself from a glittery purple prison, Renee nodded.
A few steps and a punch of b.u.t.tons brought me back to Roch.e.l.le. ”Hang that up for me, please?”
”Done,” she shouted over the part.i.tion, reminding of just how little privacy I had. I'd have to concentrate on being quiet, or not saying anything incriminating. My a.s.sistant played dumb, but she was far from it. She had the sense to turn down my job and forgo the pleasure of working closely with my boss, not to mention the ingenuity to hang around until now she knew so much about me I could never get rid of her. She probably had one ear glued to the other side of this part.i.tion. This time, I didn't care.
I clutched the phone to my ear. ”So what's going on with you? You sound as bad as Tracey.” Worse.
”Jordan's back.”
My head shook in disbelief. This shot the Tracey thing right out of the water. Off the planet, even. Jordan. Back. We'd prayed for it, but what would we do now? Jordan was a lot easier to pray for than deal with. ”Since when? Are you sure?”
”He called. Talked to Jericho.” Her voice trembled. I s.h.i.+vered at the fear streaming through her words. Even when Roch.e.l.le went into labor and Jordan went to the water fountain and never returned, she hadn't sounded like this. With every contraction, a tear had trailed her cheek. Nothing more.
”Out of the blue? blue? Where's he been? Does he think he can just waltz in here and-” I paced the minuscule break room, squeezing my forehead, hoping Adrian was right and the movement had some power after all. ”Is he married? Does he want you back?” Where's he been? Does he think he can just waltz in here and-” I paced the minuscule break room, squeezing my forehead, hoping Adrian was right and the movement had some power after all. ”Is he married? Does he want you back?”
Roch.e.l.le paused before answering. ”He's not married and...It's so crazy you'd never believe it. He's been in Mexico...in a coma.”
I gulped for breath. How convenient. How convenient. ”If he didn't want to say what happened, he didn't have to. But to make up a story like that? I mean, come on...” ”If he didn't want to say what happened, he didn't have to. But to make up a story like that? I mean, come on...”
More heavy breathing. ”It's true.”
The cord twisted around my elbow as I turned in circles. ”True? You've got to be kidding. That's straight out of The Guiding Light. The Guiding Light. Don't go back to being stupid just because he's-” I caught myself but too late. Don't go back to being stupid just because he's-” I caught myself but too late.
”So that's what I was, huh? Stupid? You're right. I was stupid to help you through school, to help take care of your mother, to raise Jericho alone...I was stupid.” A sob blared through the line. ”Still am.”
Man, I'd done it now. ”No, you're smart. And strong. That was a mean thing to say. I'm just...confused. I don't know what to think. There's so much going on.”
”Tell me about it.”
”So what does this mean? Everything is just hunky-dory? He still abandoned you. Didn't call for how many years? I don't know when this other stuff happened, but he was still playing ball on TV for a long time.”
”Right. There's still no excuse. He didn't try and make any.” She laughed a little hysterically. ”He didn't need to. Jericho was ready to jump through the phone into his lap.”
Whoa. This was bad. Really bad. Roch.e.l.le didn't mean to be, but she was a little greedy about her son. I couldn't blame her. Jericho was all she had.
She has G.o.d.
G.o.d had me there. I tried to put a positive spin on things. ”Isn't this what you wanted, for Jericho to know his father? For Jordan to want a place in his son's life?”
Another sob exploded through the phone. ”Not like this. Jericho wants to live live with him. Can you believe it? After everything I've done for that boy? Jordan didn't even sign his birth certificate. He's never even met him....” The tears strangled her words. with him. Can you believe it? After everything I've done for that boy? Jordan didn't even sign his birth certificate. He's never even met him....” The tears strangled her words.
”I know.” I fumbled for something else to say, but nothing seemed right. For once, I let silence suffice.
She paused to catch her breath. I took a breath, too, figuring I'd need it before we were done. ”I should have known when I got that letter from the people taking care of him a month ago-”
”A month? What letter? And why didn't you tell me?”
She sniffed. ”Tracey was getting married. You had that project at work. Adrian was coming...it didn't matter.”
”Didn't matter? Roch.e.l.le, what are you talking about? It's been years. Long years. I've been going through this, too.” I grimaced. No wonder she'd been acting so strange. Why hadn't I picked up on the signs? I thought she'd just finally cracked and gone man crazy with the rest of the world. Now I wondered if that wouldn't have been better. That I could fix.
Is my arm too short to save? I can fix this, too.
”Can you talk to Jordan? Get him to understand that this isn't a good idea?” I said the words and regretted them as the pa.s.sed my lips. It was like asking if she could take a ride on the sun.
”Talk to him? Dana, come on. You know him. Better than anybody.”
The truth of it hit me like a brick. I knew him all too well. And I wasn't proud of it. I rubbed my forehead and cradled the phone with my shoulder.
”How is it that I ended up with Jordan as a brother and you as a friend? It doesn't seem fair.”
A dance of unsteady breaths was Roch.e.l.le's only response.
Chapter Four.
Thirty-one minutes. I'd tried to be careful, to watch the clock, to count my time, but the thought of my brother, calling after all this time, taking Roch.e.l.le through the pain of losing him all over again...As always, I'd be left to clean up the mess.
Renee appeared in the doorway. ”I can't believe him. Coming back now? And that Mexico thing? That's rich. Really rich.” She picked her teeth with a miniature plastic sword, no doubt salvaged from her weekend.
Had she actually clicked in on the line this time or what? I didn't even have the strength to ask. Her ears were like fine-tuned receivers anyway. ”I really don't want to talk about this, okay?”
As usual, she ignored me, this time stabbing at her lip with those ridiculous nails. ”Do you think they'll get back together? Now that would be a wedding. We could call it in for one of those reunion shows on TV. Keep me posted.”