Grinning, I walked over to the kitchen. “Some things never change. You still like talking shit.”
“I can only be me.” He shuffled over to me, pointed his cane at a chair. “Sit down.”
“After I put this shit away.”
I emptied the bags, organizing his cabinets while I put stuff away. “You like it here?” I opened the refrigerator, checked the date on the milk and the cheese. “They treating you alright?”
“I can’t complain.” Elijah crossed his legs. “Beats a jail cell.”
Elijah had recently been released from federal prison. While my father lived the corporate lie, Elijah was doing the dirty work for their criminal organization. After his conviction and my father’s subsequent death, their criminal empire crumbled, leaving Elijah to take the fall.
“Thanks for making the call,” he added.
The small senior living community provided the comforts of home with access to dedicated staff support. His apartment had plenty of living space, a master bedroom and bathroom, a fully equipped kitchen, and a balcony. Elijah could live an independent life, while taking advantage of the many services offered to their residents.
“No worries.” I joined him at the small table. “Glad I could help.”
“It’s good to see you.” He patted my hand. “It’s been a while.”
“I wanted to be here when you moved in, but work is pretty busy.”
He waved me off. “Don’t worry about it. Erica helped me out.”
Over the years, I kept in touch with Elijah through letters. Initially, I wrote because I wanted to know information. The police had tied a convenient bow on my father’s death, and I still didn’t believe the sequence of events leading up to that day. The timeline wasn’t right. Eventually, my anger wouldn’t allow me to continue my search for the truth, so I gave up my investigation. But I’d never stopped communicating with Elijah.
I tapped the table with my thumb. “Erica told me what the doctor said.”
Elijah was estranged from his adult children. My sister and I had stepped in to fill in the gap, splitting duties. Erica handled his health care, while I took care of his finances.
“I don’t want to talk about that shit. Tell me what’s going on with you,” he asked. “I’ve been hearing some things about you.”
I met his waiting gaze. “What did you hear?”
He lifted a curious brow. “A baby in Wellspring?”
Laughing, I shook my head. “You know that’s not me, Unc.”
The man in front of me, even though we weren’t blood related, was the only man I’d ever considered my uncle. He was far from perfect. Never held down a real nine-to-five job. And he was always involved in some shady shit. But when I needed him, he showed up. Even from jail.
“Sure?” he asked.
“Positive.”
“Well, that social media page keeps telling all your business. Sounds like you keep fucking up to me. Every time I look online, I see something about you. Public altercations at bars, random women claiming to have your baby, and then that whole craziness with Bishop Garland’s daughter. That Ms. Tea got you looking like a no-good asshole. You’re on thin ice with Joyce.”
I froze. “What?”
“If you’re not careful, you’re going to get fired.”
Granny couldn’t stand Elijah. There was no way she’d tell him anything about Batchelor Corp. “How do you know that?”
“I know people. I always told you … jail don’t stop nothing.”
Again, Albany’s words came back to remembrance. Elijah still had connections in the city. Even when he was in jail, he always seemed to know when I was fucking up. Almost like he had a tail on me or something.
He can’t be …
Nah, it was impossible. One thing about Unc, he loved me like a son. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt me or Erica.
