AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Yeah, some of us don't have billions of dollars," she said and stumbled up the front steps to the front door. I followed her up the stairs, wanting to see where she lived and if she was going to be safe.
Inside, we went up to the second floor and a rear bedroom that was where she lived. The house had been divided up into suites and she had a single room with a hot plate and mini fridge. There was a bed against one wall and a chair in front of a television.
I checked the refrigerator. There was nothing inside except some moldy leftover pizza and a few bottles of condiments. Drug paraphernalia littered the kitchen table, including syringes, spoons and a candle plus a lighter and some foil. An ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts topped it off.
"Are you going to be okay?" I asked, checking my watch. "I have a flight to catch to LA."
"Yeah, I'll be okay." She glanced away, not meeting my eyes. I turned to the door, feeling bad at leaving her but I had to get to the airport soon.
"That's what Grant always said, too," she muttered under her breath.
I turned back. "If you need help, I can call someone," I said when she sat down on her chair and held her head in her hands.
"The only thing I need is twenty bucks, so I can get high," she replied and looked up, meeting my eyes. Hers were red and she looked desperate.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my wallet. I thumbed through my bills and took out one hundred in twenties.
"Here," I said. "Get some food. Take care of yourself. Get some help, Pen."
"Get some help," she said and took the money. I could practically see the wheels turning in her mind as she counted out the bills. She was likely figuring out how much of a party she could have on that money. "You think this will help me? All it will do is keep me from being sick for a few days."
I held my hands up, realizing what she said was true but not knowing what I could do in that moment to truly help her.
"Give me a call or email me if you need anything," I said. "I can wire you some money."
"Okay," she said, and she looked up at me. I saw some small bit of gratitude in her eyes, but there was also a deep sense of helplessness in them as well.
Like she was lost and she knew it.
I left the house, walked down the stairs to the SUV, a sick feeling in my stomach.
The drive to the airport in Montgomery took me back past
the cemetery and I saw the mound of dirt where Grant's body was buried. Sadness filled me at the carnage left by the wars on people back home.
It was then I got the idea for the foundation I would start and run. It would be in Grant's memory and would provide for mental health care for returning veterans and their families. If I could stop one vet with PTSD from killing himself, maybe, maybe, all my father's money might be of some value.
My flight to LAX was uneventful, which was just the way I liked it.
I had a first-class seat on an American Airlines flight, and spent my time writing a long email to my accountant at MBS, asking him about doing the work to set up a foundation in Grant's memory. I detailed what I wanted the foundation to do and asked him to do the leg work figuring out what needed to be done to get it up and running.
The rest of the flight I spent reading the latest newspaper, trying to get my head around the meetings I'd have all day at the new office. There was a convention in town and I was attending several sessions to meet with other news types and learn what was the latest thinking in keeping the print news business alive.
I'd take a taxi right to the convention center, where I'd have a room, and would spend the following morning attending the closing session. Sunday after lunch, I’d drive to David's mansion in the Hollywood Hills. We'd made this plan months earlier, and now, finally, I was there and the timing around the convention made me glad I'd put the trip off. It gave me the chance to attend Grant's memorial service and take care of Penelope.
There'd be a lot of hard partying at David's place once the EP was finished, but I wasn't up to it. Not after my experience in Millbrook.
David was in the middle of recording a new EP and so interspersed between recording sessions, we could catch up. I loved to listen to David and his band practice. He got all the musical talent in our family, taking after our mother. I got business sense from my father.
Luckily, that meant there was no competition between us and we could just be brothers.
I arrived at the convention center just in time for a Skype session with Ella.
I glanced at my watch, calculating how late it was back in Manhattan. It was then I saw a text from Ella.
ELLA: Hey, Tarzan, it's me, Jane. How's the Jungle?
I smiled.
