Authors: Rebecca Rohman
“You’re not coming?”
“Right now, I really don’t want
to be around you. You tell me you’re going to make an effort with Chella, and
this is how you speak to her after she invited you into her home?”
“She’s no good for you. Why can’t
you see that? Francesca is the one I always envisioned you with.”
“You never had any intention of
trying with Chella, did you? You told me what you thought I wanted to hear.
This is the last time this will ever happen. Is that why Francesca was here
tonight? Because you invited her?”
Chella watched the argument
unfolded right in front her, with Mitch asking his mother all the right
questions.
“So what? Chella told me I could
bring guests.”
“Liz, I told you that you could
bring
a
guest. You knew very well what you were doing when you told her
she could bring six friends.”
“You did what?” Mitch said
looking at his mother.
“I didn’t think it was that big
of a deal.”
“I called you on Thursday to
reconfirm your menu options for you and your plus one, and you’re trying to tell
me that you didn’t think inviting six other people would be a big deal? You
tried to embarrass me and ruin a night that was solely for celebrating your
son’s birthday. It’s a good thing I have some supportive friends and a fabulous
chef. I guess you didn’t see that one coming. You know what? I don’t want to do
this with you anymore. I’ve tried with you Liz. It’s too bad you’re putting
your relationship with your son in jeopardy because you want to advance your
own agenda. I have other guests. Have a good night.”
With that, Chella turned on her
heels and headed to the patio to visit with Alec and Jeannie.
“Mom, why are
you so intent on making things
difficult for Chella and me? All I want is for you to respect Chella so I can
maintain a relationship with both of you, but you seem hell-bent on pushing me
away.”
“I know what’s best for you, and
it’s not her.”
“I’m thirty-five. I’m quite
capable of deciding what’s best for me. I’m tired of you pulling these kinds of
tricks, and I know Chella’s tried with you. I don’t appreciate you trying to
manipulate me into thinking otherwise.”
“One day, you’ll tell me all the
things she did to screw up your life.”
“So that’s how it’s going to be,
Mom? You’ve made your choice. Don’t expect me, or Emily, over for Thanksgiving.
Until you’re ready to respect Chella, me and our relationship, forget that I
exist.”
“Why does it have to be a
packaged deal?”
“Because I’m in love with her.
And she’s part of my life, and when you disrespect her you disrespect me.” His
phone rang. After a brief conversation, he hung up.
“Driver’s here. He’ll take you to
the penthouse and to the airport when you’re ready to go tomorrow.”
“You’re not coming to say
goodbye?”
“No, Mom. This is goodbye. I love
you, but those are my terms. Until you can respect them, this is how it’s going
to be.”
“You’re not giving me much of a
choice.”
“I gave you a choice. Now it’s
time for you to go,” he said, escorting her to the door.
Chella settled back
into her office to work bright
and early Monday morning. She held meetings with her promotions managers at the
beginning and end of each week to discuss any issues. Thankfully, everything
was going as planned. The meeting was straightforward and was over within an
hour. The staff and Jade were walking out of her office when her direct line
rang.
“Chella Noon speaking,” she
answered.
There was no response at the
other end of the line.
“Hello?”
Still no response.
Chella glanced at the caller ID.
It read MCF San Diego. She made a mental note of it and hung up.
The phone rang again. This time,
she recognized the caller ID as Mitch’s.
She answered the call. “Hey,
Sweetheart. Did you just try to call me from another number?”
“No, why?” said Mitch.
“Before you called, I got a call
on my direct line, and there was no response from the other end. No worries.
Probably a wrong number. How are you?”
“I got some news.”
She instantly knew by the flat
tone of his voice that this news was not good.
“What’s wrong?”
“Can you take a break? Maybe go
to lunch?”
“Sure. What time?”
“Now? I’m with the driver
downstairs.”
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
She quickly grabbed her purse and
rushed down, eager to know what was wrong. He had sounded so distraught. She
slipped into the car’s backseat beside him and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
His palms were sweaty and his hair was disheveled. When they had been seated at
a nearby restaurant for lunch, she asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I’m a match.”
“Isn’t that great news?”
“I suppose. I didn’t realize how
I’d feel if I were a match. I feel like someone’s life is in my hands, and it’s
my responsibility to save them, only it’s a man I despise.”
She held his hand. “This is a
decision only you can make. Trust yourself. Whatever decision you make will be
the right one.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I know your heart, and I
believe in you.”
“Chella, I don’t know how to
forgive him for what he did.”
“Do you want to forgive him?”
“I don’t know. I’m still angry
with him. Is it possible for me to forgive someone I’m angry with?”
“What do you want?”
“I want to be happy, and I want
for this nasty situation to end.”
“Then Sweetheart, you have to let
it go. The only way you can truly heal from this is to trust. You taught me
that.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know if I
can do this.”
“Take the afternoon off. Spend
some time with your thoughts. Let you conscience guide you.”
“Olivia called me this morning
before I found out. My father’s condition is deteriorating. He’s back in the
hospital.”
“I’m sorry. I wish there were
something I could do or say to make this easier on you.”
Mitch’s phone rang.
Emily’s face appeared on the
screen.
“Hey, Sweetie.”
“Hi Daddy. I want to tell you
what happened at school today.”
“Why aren’t you at school,
anyway? It’s too early for you to be out.”
“We got to go home early because
there was a small fire in the kitchen at school.”
“Did anyone get hurt?”
“When the fire alarm went off,
some of my friends got afraid and ran out of the class. My friend Megan fell
and broke her arm.”
“Oh no, I’m sorry, Sweetheart. Is
she going to be okay?”
“Mommy called her mom. She said
she’s going to be fine, but she’ll be in the hospital tonight and maybe
tomorrow.”
“That’s good news. I’ll ask Greta
to send her some flowers and balloons from you.”
“That would be great, Daddy.
Thank you.” Emily stayed silent for a second.
“Is there something else you
wanted to tell me?”
“Daddy, when she fell, she was
crying, and I didn’t know what to do to help her,” Emily said, her voice filled
with emotion.
“But I’m sure your teacher did.”
“She called her mom and took her
to the ambulance outside.”
“Your teacher did the right
thing.”
“I sat with her until her mom
came. I didn’t want to leave her alone.”
“I think you helped her more than
you realize. I doubt she’ll ever forget that you were the one who stayed by her
side during such a scary time. You’re a good friend.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. She’ll be happy to
see you when she’s home from the hospital.” Mitch replied reassuringly.
“I hope you’re right, Daddy. I
love you.”
“I love you, too, Sweetie.”
“Daddy, are you okay?”
“I am, and I’m even better now
that you called.”
They said their goodbyes, and
Mitch ended the call a lot less confused than he was prior to the phone call
from his daughter. There she was, a five-year-old child, wanting to help,
wanting to do what was right, and he had the answer to his problem in front of
him.
Mitch took Chella’s hand across
the table. “I think I should go see my father’s doctor.”
“Okay. Now?”
“Yes. I’m going to do it. I still
don’t know if I can forgive him, but I don’t think I have the guts to watch him
die when I know I could help save his life.”
“I’m proud of you. I knew you had
it in you,” Chella replied, caressing his cheek. “It’s the right thing to do.”
The driver returned
to Chella’s office to drop her
off. That afternoon, she sat with Jade, planning what she’d do for her staff
after her end-of-year promotion. Chella’s direct line rang. When she answered,
there was no response. After a second and third hello, she jotted down the
caller ID info on a notepad and hung up.
“Jade, see if you can find out
whose number this is or what that abbreviation is. I received a call from this
number this morning.”
“Should be easy to find. I’ll do
an internet search.” Jade went to her desk and returned with a package.
“Tiffany from reception signed
for this while we were in our meeting.”
“Thanks,” Chella replied, taking
the box from Jade and putting it directly in front of her on her desk.
She smiled as she saw the return
label from Mitch’s office, the same type of label that had stuck to her rear
end that steamy hot afternoon at his office months before. She shook the box
gently to see if she’d get a clue as to what was inside.
It’s not jewelry… it’s too heavy.
She tore the tape from the
cardboard box. Inside was a gift box, covered in beautiful red fabric. Excited
and eager to know what mischief Mitch had been up to, she pulled away the
tissue paper covering its contents.
Blood.
Blood.
What looked like a dead rat
saturated with blood.
She shoved the box away. Tremors
erupted throughout her body.
The odor permeated the room, raw
and pungent. Similar to what a meat shop would smell like.
Jade poked her head through the
door. “Chell, they must be calling in error. It’s Metropolitan Correctional
Center. The prison in San Diego.”
She knew who it was. Aaron
Stewart and his accomplice were responsible for all of this. She had managed
every other part of her life confidently, but when it came to this situation
with Aaron Stewart, the threats, the explosions, the unknowns had always caused
her to be paralyzed by fear.
“Chella? What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine, Jade. Please close the
door behind you when you leave.”
Jade looked at her, hesitated,
and did as she was told, looking back through the glass door twice before she
finally left. As she disappeared, Chella lost control, trying to quickly wipe
away the now-constant flow of tears with her shuddering hands.
She dialed Mitch then immediately
ended the call. With all he was dealing with regarding his father and siblings,
she decided she would handle this on her own. He didn’t need to be worrying
about her, too.
She picked up the phone to call
Detective Carter, pushing her chair back as far from the desk and the so-called
gift as possible. The phone fell to the floor in her unsteady grip. After a few
deep breaths, she calmly dialed his number.
“Carter speaking.”
Remaining composed, she said,
“Detective, its Chella Noon. Someone sent me a bloody, dead rat in a gift box,
and I think Aaron has been calling me at the office.”
“You’re at your office now?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Detective Carter arrived with
another uniformed police officer. He slipped on a pair of gloves and looked in
the box. Chella stood by, arms folded, but she said nothing.
Jade returned and was about to
enter Chella’s office. When she saw the police, she stopped short.
“We need to clear this office,”
said Detective Carter. “Is there a conference room or somewhere you can go,
Miss Noon?
“Sure. If I’m not there when you
need me, I’ll be in my boss’s office.”
“Are you her secretary?”
Detective Carter asked Jade.
“Yes.”
“Did you touch this box?”