Читать книгу In A Heartbeat - Janice Johnson Kay - Страница 14

CHAPTER FOUR

NATE HAD TAKEN to driving by Anna’s house every few days. No Sold! banner had been tacked onto the For Sale sign planted in her yard.

Twice he saw her.

The first time, she was backing out of the garage, both kids with her. Probably on her way to drop her boy off at school. Nate was glad she didn’t see him even as he fretted about her car, which had to be ten years old, at least. The PI had told him that the Graingers owned a second, much newer vehicle, a Kia crossover, the Sorento. The Kia wasn’t in the garage. With her money tight, she’d been sensible to sell that one, even if it would have been more reliable. He wondered what else she’d had to sell.

The next time he caught a glimpse of her she was setting off on a run, wearing formfitting shorts and a tank top that didn’t hide much of her long-legged slim body. She headed down the sidewalk the opposite way he was going. Unable to tear his eyes from the rearview mirror, Nate almost ran a stop sign at the corner.

He called once more, not surprised when she didn’t answer. After the beep, he said simply, “Let me help, Mrs. Grainger. We can make it a loan, if you’d accept that. Once you’re on your feet again, you can pay me back.”

When that time came, he wouldn’t cash her checks, but he didn’t say that.

She failed to return his call.

What he wanted to do was buy her damn mortgage so she and the kids could stay in the house. He might have done it if he hadn’t felt sure that, given her pride, she’d pack up and move away, leaving him with a modest ranch house he didn’t want and her without whatever pittance she’d get out of the sale. Then he’d have to sell the place himself and track her down to make her accept her equity. If there was any. After some of the sky-high surges in prices in the Seattle area, people found themselves having to sell houses for considerably less than what they’d paid for them only a year or two earlier.

Checking the website of the real estate company listing her house, he saw that she’d had to drop the price a second time.

Worry about Anna Grainger and her two kids might explain the burning in his stomach he had begun to suspect was an ulcer. Or maybe it was worrying about his own daughter that had him taking antacids like a chain-smoker reaching for his next cigarette before the last had burned down. Or was guilt doing the damage?

He’d gotten tough with Sonja, which infuriated her. Without fail, Nate had Molly every other weekend. He also took her out to dinner at least once a week. Spending more time with her, he still couldn’t penetrate her shyness. Once in a while, they’d do okay talking about what kind of dog she wished she had or a movie or her new shoes. Anything touching on the accident, day camp and, especially, her mother shut her up fast.

One positive: at least Molly was no longer in the same school as Josh Grainger. After the divorce, Sonja had chauffeured Molly to Bellevue so she could finish the school year with her friends. This fall, Molly had started in a Seattle elementary school.

Of course, if that damn house ever sold, Josh would no longer go to Molly’s old elementary school, anyway.

Nate called Molly several evenings a week, too, even if all he got were whispered responses. “Uh-uh.” Or “uh-huh.” Nate had to believe his persistence would eventually pay off. In his mind, persistence was an essential quality to achieve success in the business world. Brains helped—charm, too, and the ability to see the real motives of other people. But refusing to quit was number one.

In his darker moments, he had to admit that persuading an investor to trust him might not be analogous to earning a seven-year-old girl’s trust, especially after he’d let her down in such a painful way. Had been letting her down since the divorce, he had come to see.

And then there was the fact that Molly’s mother was undoubtedly bad-mouthing him.

This was one of his off weekends. Nate went into the office for half a day Saturday, but was too restless to concentrate. Finally, he drove down to the waterfront and walked onto the ferry going to Bainbridge Island. It was something he did every few months when he needed to think. This being the first week of October, he was fortunate for such good weather.

Today, he stood outside on the prow and turned his face into the cooling wind. Sunlight glinted off the water, and the Olympic Mountains reared crystal clear on the skyline. Not much snow on them, given the time of year, but they were jagged enough to be impressive, anyway.

When Molly was younger, he’d taken her on ferry rides a few times. If the weather held, maybe they could do that some night this week. The sun was still up in the early evening, and he bet she’d be happy with the food from the café on board.

For once, he tried not to think.

Winslow was as beautiful as ever, with spectacular rocky beaches and cliffs, the picturesque small town tucked in a cove. A couple sailboats were making their way in or out of the marina right by the ferry terminal. Seagulls dove, screeching, and pelicans sat atop pilings. On occasion he’d considered buying a house here, commuting on the ferry instead of in his car. Maybe this would be a good time. He could bring Molly along to look at houses with him so she felt included in his choice.

He actually did feel somewhat more relaxed by the time the ferry docked in Seattle and he walked to his car.

At home he decided not to look at emails. He scanned his missed calls and texts, but didn’t return any of those, either. There was nothing that couldn’t wait until Monday.

He’d have distracted himself by cooking something elaborate for dinner, but lately he hadn’t done well stocking the kitchen. He ended up starting coals in the grill outside, and having a steak and baked potato for dinner. Then he turned on the TV, coasted through fifty channels or so and turned it off.

Mostly he read nonfiction because he never knew what knowledge would turn out to be useful in his job. Tonight he found a thriller he remembered buying and had never gotten to. It was gripping enough to keep his attention as the sun sank and shadows lengthened across the lake.

Dark had fallen when his phone vibrated on the end table. It was later than most people called. He picked up the phone to see Sonja’s number. She might be just drunk enough to want to berate him.

Nate rolled his shoulders and answered, anyway.

“Daddy?” The voice was small and scared sounding.

“Molly? Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“I can’t make Mommy wake up.”

Oh, hell.

“Where is she, punkin?”

“She fell off the coach,” Molly whispered.

“Did she hit her head?”

“I don’t think so,” his little girl said uncertainly. “She was sick on the floor.”

“All right. I’m on my way. I’ll call for an ambulance, too.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know you are,” he said as gently as possible. “But I think your mom will be fine, and I’ll be there in ten or fifteen minutes. Okay?”

Her answer was shaky.

He’d never made the drive this fast. On the way, he called 911, repeating what Molly told him. If Sonja had dragged herself up by the time he and an ambulance crew got there, she’d be hideously embarrassed, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Embarrassment was nothing compared to what she’d feel when he was done with her.

Rotating lights seen from a couple blocks away let him know the aid car had beaten him here. He was able to park right behind it. The two medics, carrying equipment and with a rolling gurney, were talking to the doorman, who from the sound of it didn’t like taking responsibility for letting them into a condo without authorization from someone higher up in management. The doorman’s relief was obvious when he recognized Nate, who joined the group and said, “I’m the one who called. I have a key.”

A key he’d pried from a reluctant Sonja shortly after she purchased this condo. She’d finally conceded Molly might need him sometime. Like tonight, he thought grimly.

They rode the elevator up to her floor. The minute he opened the door, he saw Sonja sprawled, unmoving, on the shaggy white rug by the sofa, a cascade of flame-red curls covering her face. Leaving his ex-wife to the EMTs, he called, “Molly?”

Hair straggling from her braid, Molly appeared in the hall. Wearing only a nightgown, she was so pale that her freckles stood out. “Daddy?”

He crouched. With a sob, she flung herself at him. His own eyes stung as she cried, her body shaking.

Damn Sonja, he thought viciously. How could she do this to her child?

Molly wiped her wet face on his shoulder and pulled back enough to whisper, “Is Mommy dead?”

“I don’t think so.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the paramedics working over Sonja. “Tell you what, why don’t you go get dressed and pack a bag. You’re going home with me. I’ll see how your mom is doing. Okay?”

She nodded, sniffled and retreated.

Nate returned to the living room just as the EMTs shifted Sonja onto the gurney.

“How is she?” he asked.

The woman glanced at him. “Still unconscious. Given the, er, odor, we took the liberty of checking the trash beneath the kitchen sink. It’s half-full with hard-liquor bottles. She dropped a glass—” she nodded toward a side table “—that seems to have held gin.”

He’d smelled it the minute he walked through the door. Sonja had loved martinis. Apparently, she’d quit bothering to add vermouth or an olive.

“As you can see, she vomited. It was lucky she was lying on her side. She could have choked on it.”

The man said, “Her breathing is irregular and slow, and she’s hypothermic. We need to take her in. She’ll likely be kept under observation overnight.” Expression sympathetic, he added, “You may want to tell your daughter she might have saved her mother’s life by calling you.”

“Thanks.” Nate looked at his unconscious ex-wife and shook his head. “I can’t believe this.”

Having a drinking problem was one thing, but boozing herself into a stupor when she was all Molly had? Had it ever occurred to her that she was scaring the shit out of her young daughter?

After watching the pair wheel Sonja out, Nate took the time to clean up the puke. Then he turned out lights, scooped Molly up and pulled her small suitcase with his free hand. He was past ready to take her home.

* * *

ANNA SAT AT the kitchen table, feeling numb. It was done. The house had finally sold—but for a price that would have left her still owing money on it if Alan hadn’t told her, firmly, that he had reduced his commission by one percent. According to his calculations, that would allow her to pay off the mortgage in full.

She had wanted to argue, to tell him he didn’t need to do that, but instead had said shakily, “Thank you. You’ve worked so hard to sell my house, it’s not fair.”

“I’m glad to do it,” he’d said kindly, before gathering up his papers and departing.

Since the couple had been preapproved for a loan, Alan didn’t foresee any problems.

Alone now, Anna couldn’t even feel relief. Now she had to face all her other problems.

This past week, she had spent hours on the internet, applying for positions as a paraeducator, or teacher’s aide, at school districts in eastern Washington, Oregon and Idaho. Unfortunately, so far they all had a full roster, as she’d feared. A month into the school year had to be the worst time to apply. She’d had several responses, however, expressing interest in using her part-time or as a fill-in, and possibly as a substitute teacher, too.

She’d be rolling the dice when she chose where to go. The work could be steady—or not. There’d be no benefits. But she’d concluded this was her best route back to teaching. It would give her experience and references; with luck, she’d be liked enough to be hired as a teacher next fall in the same district. Somehow, she’d pick up other part-time work to put food on the table.

Possibilities so far included Moses Lake in eastern Washington, La Grande in eastern Oregon or Idaho Falls, Idaho. Idaho Falls sounded touristy enough to push rents up too high for her.

She didn’t have to decide today. Soon, though. And maybe she’d get more responses this week. This was only Monday. If she was lucky, one of those many school districts she had contacted would have a full-time aide quit unexpectedly.

She really ought to go over to Mrs. Schaub’s and fetch Jenna. Josh, of course, was in school. More than Jenna, he didn’t want to move, and she couldn’t blame him. If she could stay... But it was impossible. Rent anywhere on the Eastside would be far beyond her means, even if she found a similar patchwork of jobs here. She had faith he’d adjust. Josh had always been good at making friends.

Her phone rang, and she recognized the number immediately. The man just would not give up.

This time, she answered. “Mr. Kendrick, I’ve asked you to leave me alone.”

“Please. Will you listen to me?”

Surprised at what might have been a note of desperation in his voice, she sighed. “Yes, if it doesn’t take long. I need to get back to packing.”

Well, start packing, but he didn’t have to know that.

“You sold your house?”

“At last.” Her effort to sound pleased fell flat to her ears.

“The timing might be good.” Was he talking to himself?

“Mr. Kendrick?”

“I’m sorry. I, ah, have something of a problem.” He hesitated. “I’ll ask you not to repeat what I’m going to tell you.”

Was this a subterfuge on his part to get his way? She was curious enough, though, to say, “I promise.” Not like she’d be here to gossip even if she wanted to.

“My ex-wife has become an alcoholic,” he said bluntly. “I’ve been worried, but she seemed to drink primarily in the evening and didn’t go out. Saturday night, though, Molly called me because she couldn’t wake her mother up.”

Anna exclaimed, “Oh, poor Molly!”

“She was petrified. Turned out, Sonja was in a drunken stupor. I had to call medics, and she spent the night in the hospital. I insisted she enter a treatment program to have any hope of maintaining custody of Molly.”

“So Molly is with you?”

“That’s right. It’s been a challenge. I left late for work this morning, came home in time to meet her school bus. I should enroll her in that after-school program, but she begged me not to. She’s...fragile right now.”

“Couldn’t you...well, take some vacation?”

“A monthlong one?” He sounded incredulous. “No.”

“You could—” The words hire someone died. Duh. Why else had he called her? At last, he had a job to offer that fit her qualifications.

“I have an attached apartment meant for a housekeeper that has never been used,” he continued. “Would you consider moving in, even if only temporarily, to take care of Molly when I can’t be here?”

Of course, she should say, I’m sorry. No. Whether Sonja’s attempt to blame him for Kyle’s death was unfair or not—and Anna didn’t know enough to judge—she should keep her distance from this man.

But another thought crept in. With a month’s grace, Josh could finish the soccer season with his team. Have a little longer at school with his friends and a teacher Anna especially liked. Only...wouldn’t it be better for all of them to get the move over with, not put it off?

A temporary job like this would give her some breathing room.

“I don’t know,” she heard herself say. “Where do you live?”

“Just south of Meydenbauer Bay.”

Waterfront? She didn’t ask.

“I’ll pay you on top of providing housing,” he added.

“Don’t be ridiculous. The savings on not having to pay rent would be huge.” Was she seriously discussing this? “And given that you only need part-time help—”

“The apartment isn’t ideal,” he said with a hint of apology. “There’s only one bedroom, so it’ll be a squeeze for three of you.”

It will. Apparently, he had no doubt about her answer.

She’d have time to make the right decision about what they’d do next. And she felt for Molly, undergoing a second trauma on top of the first. Even before this happened, living with an alcoholic parent must have been scary.

Had kids talked after the disaster about how Mr. Kendrick was supposed to have been there, that if he had been, Josh’s dad wouldn’t have had to go in the water to save Molly? If so, Josh hadn’t said so.

She was still angry at Nate Kendrick. Even so... Anna sighed, ashamed to be succumbing so easily, but also aware of relief pouring through her veins. “You don’t even know me.”

“Molly likes you. She says you used to help out in her classroom.”

“I did, but is that enough of a reference?”

“The PI’s report was thorough.”

At the reminder, she came close to hanging up on the man. It was for Molly’s sake she didn’t—or so she told herself. “If I do this, will you be satisfied?” she asked. “Will you stop trying to give me money?”

“No,” he said without hesitation. “I owe you too much. This isn’t about what happened. Molly needs you. I need you.” The growl in his voice told her that he didn’t like needing her. Or anyone?

He could hire someone else, of course, but trusting a stranger with your child wasn’t easy. He and she...weren’t quite strangers, even though she’d only met him face-to-face the once, if she didn’t count his appearance in the hospital elevator.

“Don’t you have family who can help?”

“My parents would come if I asked, but my father has health problems. I don’t want to lean on them right now.”

When she didn’t answer immediately, he apparently read her hesitation as resistance. “Do you and the kids still have health insurance?” he asked.

Low blow. She bit her lip. “No.” She hadn’t been able to afford to extend their coverage, which meant living in terror that one of the kids might get hurt or sick.

“My company provides insurance to employees. I’ll add the three of you on it while you’re working for me.”

He knew just how to undermine her stubbornness. It caved in. She might regret this, but she made the decision. “Okay. I’ll do it, with the understanding that it’s temporary.”

“Thank you,” he said huskily. He cleared his throat. “Can you come soon?”

“Is the apartment furnished?”

“No. I’ll pay to have your furniture moved here. We can put the rest into storage.”

A new bill, but she’d call all the nearby school districts right away in hopes one or several of them could use her as a substitute teacher and/or aide. And, thank goodness, living so close by, she could continue to take Jenna to Mrs. Schaub’s.

Thinking it through, she said, “I could come tomorrow with what we’ll need right away, as long as you don’t mind renting a truck twice. I’d have to come back here daytimes to pack everything that will go into storage.”

“Movers can do that for you.”

Oh, so tempting, but she needed to weed their possessions. “No, I’d rather do it.”

“Why don’t Molly and I pick you up this evening?” he suggested. “We could all go out for pizza, then we can show you the apartment so you have a better idea what you’ll need.”

Go out for pizza with a man she wanted to hate? It wasn’t too late to change her mind. Only...she remembered her first sight of a sopping wet redheaded girl sobbing her heart out.

She could be polite for the one evening. They wouldn’t have to see much of each other after this. She’d hand off childcare duties and retreat to the apartment. She and Molly’s father could leave each other notes, or he could call to let her know his schedule.

“Yes. Okay,” she said, even as she wondered why she felt as if she’d made a decision more momentous than it seemed.