Part 3 (1/2)
Again there was silence from Stefan.
”Stefan,” I pressed. ”What does she want? Money?”
He snorted. ”I think if money could make the problem go away, it would already be gone. No, Karina. I think she, uh, she wants him.” I could hear Stefan blus.h.i.+ng through the phone, I swear.
”Well, she can't have him.” I sat down on the concrete bench next to some bushes with a thump.
”Karina? What did you say? I couldn't make that out.”
d.a.m.n it. If I was going to fight Ferrara Huntington, I needed to forgive James.
Stefan made a sudden noise. ”Karina-”
”Stefan?”
I heard a brief rustling, then a voice I longed to hear, even if I was angry at him all over again. ”Karina.” James sounded out of breath.
”Mr. LeStrange,” I said, as calmly and coldly as I could. ”Don't you know it's rude to interrupt a conversation?”
”I know. I know. I'm sorry. G.o.d, Karina, I have no excuse other than my desperation to hear your voice. Are you all right? Paulina said your mother-?”
”Don't change the subject. You don't deserve to know about my mother. You don't deserve to know anything after everything you've done!” I stood up again and I was shouting. Some people walking to the parking lot glanced at me nervously. I didn't care.
”You're right. You're right. Please let me make it up to you, Karina. Please let me explain.”
”Fine. Explain.”
”In person. Somewhere secure-”
”Oh, bulls.h.i.+t, James!” I could picture how it would go. He'd invite me to a penthouse somewhere, and fill the place with long-stemmed roses with I'm sorry handwritten in gold ink on every one, and I'd roll over and let him have me before I knew what I was doing. ”You don't get to set the terms anymore. Do you understand? If you can't get that, then we have nothing to talk about.”
He was silent, but I could hear his breathing. It sounded like he was still out of breath. I wondered if he was shocked. I wondered if he was crying.
When he spoke, his voice was gravelly and subdued. ”I'm sorry. I... I'll wait. I'll come there if you want. Whatever you want. You're in control, Karina.”
I sank down to the bench again. My knees had gone weak. I never thought I'd hear him say something like that.
An idea came to me then. ”Find out everything you can about a Phil Betancourt from Xenia, Ohio. Then maybe we can talk again.”
I hung up before he could respond. As I hit the ”end call” b.u.t.ton, it felt like a knife going through my chest, but there was also something deeply satisfying about it. I stared at the phone in my hand for a long moment before I got up and went back inside.
We hung around the hospital for another hour or two. After Mom dozed off again, Jill drove us into town to the luncheonette that I was surprised was still there. ”Let's eat quickly,” Jill suggested, as we sat down. ”Then I'll drop you back at the hospital and I'll go meet the locksmith at the house.”
”Sounds like a plan.”
”You want to split a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of soup?”
”We could each get the half sandwich and cup of soup combo,” I pointed out.
”It's cheaper if we just share a whole one, plus the soup's bigger.”
”Get tomato in the grilled cheese and I'm there.”
”Deal.”
It was after the lunch crowd and before dinner so there were only a few other customers in the place.
”She seems pretty cheerful today,” Jill said.
”Well, that's good, right?”
”When have you ever known Mom to be cheerful? That worries me.”
”Jill, of course she's being cheerful. All she's ever wanted is for everyone to treat her like a queen. In the hospital they do.”
”Hmm, true.” She looked around. Most of the seats at the Formica-topped counter were empty. ”Karina, I'm going to have to go back soon.”
”How soon? Can't the bar deal without you?”
”From what I can tell, all h.e.l.l is breaking loose without me there.”
”They'll survive.”
”That's what I have to tell you. 'They' is 'we' now.”
”What do you mean?”
”I bought into part-owners.h.i.+p. The chef's been wanting his own place for a while. He got a rich friend to pony up some cash, and me and the head bartender each bought in for a quarter. So the old owner is gone and I'm the full-time house manager now. We're in the middle of the changeover.” Her eyes were very round and exposed under her super-short haircut.
”Jill! That's great! How did I miss this?”
”Um, you were in England all summer?”
Right. ”That's fantastic, though.”
”It is if we can make it fly. I mean, the money could be a lot better, but that's if the place is successful enough to keep up with our salaries.”
”That place was always packed.”
”No, it wasn't. You mostly worked the weekend nights.” She paused while the waiter, a kid who couldn't be more than eighteen, put the food down in front of us. ”But we'll make it work. We're upscaling. Chef's snazzing up the menu. Small plates are all the rage, and a new c.o.c.ktail menu's coming, too, but all the changes mean retraining the waitstaff. We're trying to take it up a notch and get on the hip foodie map. A gastro-pub.”
”And you need to be there to train the staff.”
”Yeah. This is killing me. My partners are depending on me. But, you know, this is Mom we're talking about.”
”I know.” We ate for a bit while I mulled over my options. ”I still haven't checked in with the university to see what I have to do next. I might not need to be there at all if they haven't reinstated me...”
”I thought you were going to fight for reinstatement?”
”Well, I am, but maybe I could shoot for January.” I shrugged. My case might look weak if I stayed away too long, but... ”This is Mom we're talking about.” I repeated her words.