Unwanted Fate (6 page)

“What’s your timeline?” she asks as she tries to mask the pain of her lost brother.

“I have approval for the money and the organizations researched, I just want to know where would be best to allocate the funds.”

“Can we meet next week to discuss your thoughts?”

“Yes, that works.” I put my hands in my pocket and grab my metal card holder. I pull out one of my business cards and hand it to her. “Call my assistant, Kristin, with the day and time that works for you.”

“Will do.”

“Thank you, Emily.”

“You’re welcome. Would you like to meet more people that the grant will be helping?”

“Yes, lead the way.”

She smiles and walks over to the kids and adults surrounding a large table of drinks and cookies. When we arrive at the small group of people off to the side, she introduces me to several families who tell me their history. Many of their stories have similarities of the physical and verbal abuse I lived with, and in this moment, I’ve never been more grateful for the Carlino’s support when I was a teen.

After several hours at the community center, I’m hot, sweaty, and I want to get out of this suit and shower. I’m glad that I was part of this presentation. If I hadn’t been, I wouldn’t have met Emily. I think her insight will be a huge asset to my next project. As I walk to my car, I hear, “See you later, Mr. Patrick.”… “Bye, Mr. Patrick.”… “Bye.”… I smile and wave as I walk by.

I make it to my car and remove my jacket before I get in, and I turn the AC on full blast as soon as I turn the ignition on. While waiting for the AC to cool the interior of the car and me, I think about the best way to get to my house south of the city. I hit the home button on the GPS and have Siri worry about getting me there in the shortest time.

For the first time in a while, I think I might actually stay at home and sleep in my bed. There’s a calmness over me I haven’t felt in years. Maybe the kids wore me out with tossing the football around and playing a few games of hoops. I told the boys I let Emily win, but she smoked me, twice. I guess I’m a little rusty. Mmm. The way our bodies touched, the smell of her perfume; I won’t soon forget Emily Janes.

Pulling onto the road that runs in front of the center, I head toward the interstate. As the familiar scenes of the city fade away, I know I’ll be home in under twenty minutes. I can’t wait to get these shoes off, they aren’t meant to play basketball in.

A
fter the hour drive to Mom’s last night, I crashed after dinner. The celebration was superb, and I’m excited that we had such a huge turnout. However, it made for a very busy and long day. Mom and I have an appointment at the spa this morning. We’ve only visited the spa a few times and she said this was something we needed to do; we need to take care of ourselves.

We arrive early, and the receptionist asks us to take a seat until they are ready for us. There’s a side table full of magazines and I pick one from the stack, not paying attention to which one I grab.

Flipping through the pages of the magazine, none of the stories grab my attention, and I’m about to shut the magazine when a picture of a familiar face catches my attention. I open the magazine to view the full article about CU Gold Company’s New CFO Patrick H. Matheson.

I read the article, and I see he’s single to my surprise, he’s a graduate of the University of Nevada Reno and interned at CUGC—so that’s how he got into the company? Skimming through the fluffiness of the piece, the mention of losing his mom has me backing up to reread word for word the rest of the article.

Wow, his mom passed away from a heart attack when he was seventeen. Sounds like he lost his main supporter, but found comfort from the Carlino’s, the owners of the store where he worked as a teen. He credits them for him being where he is today. Reading the last couple of paragraphs, he wants to put CUGC on the map for their effort to help end childhood hunger and poverty.

The article floors me, could this be the same guy I was spending time with less than twenty-four hours ago? I met the self-assured and well composed business man yesterday, but this article describes a complex, compassionate, and in a way, a quixotic man who wants to change the world.

I put the magazine down and replay the conversations I had with Patrick, and—

“Are you okay,” my mom asks from the other side of the side table.

“Yes, just thinking about this guy I met yesterday,” I say, thinking of Patrick’s drool worthy suit clad body.

“Oh?” Her curiosity is piqued.

“The man who presented me with the check yesterday at the celebration, the magazine I was reading had an article about him, and the way they painted him seemed different from the man I met yesterday.”

“Which one do you think is really him?” She raises her eyebrow at me.

“Possibly a little of both. I think he was out of his comfort zone yesterday, but after reading the article, it’s possible the center hit too close to home.” I sigh, wondering if made a fool of myself by flirting with him.

“You’re normally a good judge of character, I’m sure you’ll figure it out if you see him again.” She reaches across the table that separates us and pats my hand.

“Not if…I have to schedule a meeting with him next week to discuss a project of his.”

“I’m sure that will be closer to the real him when you see him again. One on one is a lot different than in the public eye.”

“True. I—”

“Cassandra and Emily?” a spa employee calls out.

“Yes?” my mother says.

“This way, please.”

We follow her into the changing room of sorts in the spa. The room offers soft lightening and the cream colored large room has hidden changing areas, showers and restrooms, and lockers around the perimeter of the area.

“Please remove all your clothing and jewelry and dress in the robe provided. You can place all of your belongings in the lockers behind you. There is a safety pin on the key to fasten the key to the inside of the robe pocket.” She lists out what we need to do while setting out everything we need.

“I’ll leave you two to get undressed and prepare your massage tables.”

“Thank you,” I say as I smile. I so need this massage.

We go behind the curtain and change into our robes, and put our belongings in the lockers. The anticipation of her returning has me feeling giddy because it’s been a while since I’ve had a full body massage, without expecting to exchange it for sex.

“I scheduled facials too,” my mom says.

I giggle, as I was just thinking about sex when she says facials. “Sounds good,” is all I can get out.

A few moments later, the spa employee returns and leads us into a room with two tables. Candles are sitting on the shelves around the room to light the area, and the sounds of relaxing water music plays softly around us.

“Natalie and Ragan will be your masseuses today and will be with you in a few moments. Please let them know if there are certain areas you want them to focus on today. I’ll leave you to get comfortable on your table. Enjoy your massage, ladies,” she says politely with a smile and walks out the door.

“I hope I don’t snore,” my mom says while she’s finagling with the sheets and her robe.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t be the first person. Do you need any help over there?”

She is yanking and pulling on the sheet, and I think she might fall off the bed she is pulling so hard.

“Finally! Nope, got it,” she says breathlessly. I was able to get my sheet up and my robe off without any trouble.

There’s a quiet knock at the door as I’m about to say something, and in walk two ladies in pink scrubs with the spa’s logo on the left side of their chests.

“Hello, I’m Natalie and this is Ragan. We’re glad you’re here today. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” we say at the same time with too much excitement.

“Fantastic. Since I’ve worked with you before,” she points to mom, “I’ll work with you again. Emily, Ragan is amazing, and I’m sure you’ll be impressed.” I nod my head, because I don’t care as long as they know what they are doing.

The ladies get in position and start with the massages. Ragan’s hands feel wondrous and I feel myself drifting to sleep. She grasps my glutes, and I jerk up in bed. What the hell was that.

“Sorry, Ms. Emily. Did you hurt your buttocks area recently? It feels bruised.”

“I fell yesterday. I guess I didn’t realize that it was tender because it doesn’t bother me while sitting.”

“I’ll put some Arnica on it. Let me finish the other side, and I’ll place warm towels on you. While you’re resting, I’ll mix up the Arnica in coconut oil and apply it. I’ll send the rest home with you. It’s great for bruises and helps with swelling,” she says in a whisper, trying not to interrupt my mom’s massage.

“Thank you,” I murmur, trying to re-relax face down on the table.

My mind revisits yesterday and replays all the events that happened at the celebration, especially the moments with Patrick. There’s something about him, he’s very charming, but I can’t help to wonder if it’s a façade? I hope that it’s not, but I have a feeling I’m going to find out—I want to find out.

Our time at the spa is over before I want it to be, but it’s time to return to reality. I think I’m going to talk Mom into doing this monthly or at least every other month. Even though it felt like Ragan was ripping my butt cheek from my body, the ointment she put on after soothed away the ache in my rump.

We stop at a deli on our way to Mom’s to grab a late lunch and it’s the perfect way to complete our morning out together.

“Nate’s headstone should be in place now,” my mom randomly blurts out while we are eating. Not exactly what I’m expecting her to talk about.

“Do you want to check and see? To make sure it’s how you want it?” I know if I don’t offer, she will go by herself.

“If you don’t mind, we can head over after we eat.”

“That’s fine. I don’t think we have anything else planned.”

“No, I didn’t know if you were staying the whole weekend or not.”

“I guess I thought you would know I’d be here until Sunday afternoon.”

“I know that now; do you want to go to mass with me in the morning?” Church. Blah.

“Early mass?”

“Yes, of course.”

“That’s fine. Mind if I borrow a dress.” She just looks at me.

“I don’t know if I have anything long enough. They all will be short on you.”

“That’s the point.”

“Smartass.” She shakes her head and resumes eating her lunch. I’m sure I just got out of going to mass with her, and I smile to myself and finish my sandwich in a comfortable silence.

The sun at this time of day is blistering hot, unlike the last time I was here. What a difference a week makes in a cemetery. I don’t know exactly where I’m going and I hope she does.

“Go around the bend and take a right. Drive out a little ways. He’s in a row almost by himself. There are four empty plots around him…” she trails off.

Four? What is she talking about? I guess we will have to talk about this later. I’m too busy trying to concentrate on where I’m going and keeping the tears at bay.

“Slow down. See that tree? Park right there.” She looks out the window. “It’s there,” she says, pointing her finger out the window.

I pull under the tree and turn off the car. I lick my lips and take a slow, deep breath.