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“Wallet, keys. Back soon. Help yourself to the kitchenette.”
“How generous of you, Sir.”
His lips part, and he keeps whatever's darkening, his expression quiet. I wait a few minutes and take the stairs down eight floors to Mrs. Roger’s office. I’d like to call my parents and wish them a Merry Christmas.
“Finished, Miss Parks?”
“Taking a brief break. May I have my purse?”
“Are you leaving the premises?”
“Just want to wish Mom and Dad happy holidays.”
She unlocks a filing cabinet and hands me the faux Gucci bag. I sense her judging me for a second time as she issues instruction.
“Use the conference room down the hall. Ten minutes, Miss Parks.”
“Yes, Mrs. Rogers.”
I mean, Mrs. Grinch.
When I reach the space and power on my phone, I notice three missed calls from Mom. I press her speed dial button.
“Hi, Mom. Everything alright?”
“Thank goodness, Penny. Your father’s not feeling well, so we’re heading to urgent care. His blood pressure is one-fifty-two over ninety-one, and his fingers are tingling.”
“Give him my love and keep me posted. Do you need me to fly home?”
“I’ll let you know what the doctor says. Hopefully, this is just a flare-up of diabetes and nothing serious. He ate two slices of apple pie this morning.”
My nose inhales as I recall the delicious smell of her desserts. With the thousand-dollars I’m earning, I could take a red-eye flight. I don’t want to imagine the pain Bentley’s in from losing a loved one this time of year. He’s filled with regret, a feeling I know well since relocating.
“Tell him Merry Christmas. Call me as soon as you see the doctor.”
“Merry Christmas, Penny. I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”
There’s nowhere to hide my cell in this clingy dress. The device powers off and returns to my purse. I can check on Dad again when Bentley and I leave for lunch.
"Thank you, Mrs. Rogers. Do you have holiday plans?"
"No. Back to work."
Her steely eyes indicate I should drop the subject. Like attracts like, as they say, and it seems we're three bitter people wronged by fate on this most holy of nights.
There's good in everyone's life if they look hard enough. Ted's decision to dump me days before Christmas last year encouraged my independent nature. Running home to my family would've shown that moving to Atlanta with Ted was impulsive and stupid. I hate when someone says I told you so.
I remind myself that the monetary contributions I send my parents each month make a difference in the quality of medical care dad receives. This small-town girl's isolation in a big city is tolerable. Most days.
Christmas Eve, not so much.
6
Bentley
“Good morning, Judge Siever. Thank you for granting me this emergency court session. My client, Mr. Martinez, is at the hospital with his ex-wife.”
“I’ve read over the preliminary paperwork you emailed. Are the children safe?”
