Good afternoon! Welcome to Wal-Mart!
Bennett Cummings wasnt certain of the protocol here, due to the fact that hed never set foot in a big-box discount store in his life, let alone this particular establishment in Worcester, Massachusetts. But he smiled at the man in the vest, said thank you, and carried on with his mission.
Hed come for clothing and a few necessities for the road. Within seconds of entering the huge structure hed spied a pharmacy, a hair salon, a floral shop, an optometrists office, a bank, a tax preparation kiosk, a McDonalds, and a manicure shop, not to mention the giant supermarket operation in the other half of the building. /My God,/ Bennett thought, /the Waltons of Arkansas will own the country outright within five years./ In the mens department he selected a cheap vinyl belt and two pairs of dungarees of dubious quality, plus a plaid overshirt with a polyester quilted lining. He chose a baseball cap that proclaimed GOD BLESS THE USA! in red, white, and blue script. He selected a few T-shirts, one of which featured something called a monster truck, which had the most grossly ill-proportioned tires hed ever seen on a vehicle. He chose some sneakers, socks, and undershorts.
He grabbed a first-aid kit from the camping department. He selected a small cooler that would fit a few cans of soda and a sandwich or two. He found a pine-scented air freshener in the auto department and a Rand McNally Road Atlas in the aisle of books and magazines.
Somehow, as the purchases began to fill his cart, he felt jubilation.
Perhaps it was because he was finally moving forward. Regardless of how it would end, the process had begun.
Im gonna knock your fuckin ass to kingdom come if you dont put that shit down! /Now!/ Bennett stopped and spun around in his tracks at the sound of the shrill female voice. The object of her scorn was a child no more than five, who was clutching some kind of action figure in his hand, eyes wide from the harsh scolding.
Put it down, you moron! Didnt you hear what I said?
Bennetts heart cracked. He couldnt help but recall Margot at that age, all golden perfection and smiles, one hundred percent human potential.
In essence, no different from the little snotty fellow whose own mother just called a moron.
The woman caught him staring.
Take a picture, why dont you?
A pitiful wail rose from an infant car seat perched precariously on the handle of the womans shopping cart.
Bennett continued to stare at the trio.
Look, asshole, dont fuck with me. Im not exactly having the best day of my life.
We all have bad days, Bennett said softly. But we should do everything in our power not to take it out on the children.
The woman was so offended she nearly spat. She rested a fist upon a roll of flesh that may have once been her hip, then gave him a fierce once-over, from his four-thousand-dollar custom-made lambs wool sport coat to his Gucci moccasins.
What the fuck do you know about bad days?
This was exactly why Bennett had come to Wal-Marthe wanted to tone down his look. He wanted to be just another person on the road, sitting in a rundown Buick, going somewhere or nowhere with his sodas and his sandwiches and his USA baseball cap, not registering in anyones memory for any reason, whatsoever.
Pardon me for intruding on what is clearly a private matter, Bennett said. Its just that I recently lost my daughter. Its been difficult.
The mother, who was hardly more than a child herself, gave her neck a few back-and-forth rotations, then huffed. She die or something?
Yes.
She get the cancer?
She died from injuries sustained in a motorcycle accident.
The woman ran a hand through her rather greasy-looking light brown hair and nodded. My kids daddy has a bike. Hes gonna kill himself one day, I keep telling him.
Bennett nodded. He noticed that the little boy had put down the action figure and cautiously moved closer. Hello, young man, Bennett said.
Whazzup? the youngster said.
His mother thought her sons disrespect was hilarious. When her laughter subsided, she looked at Bennett thoughtfully, then said, Well, mind your own business, is all Im saying.
He had no idea what possessed him, but he reached in his wallet and pulled out a crisp hundred. Buy your son the toy, he said.
She frowned. You some kind of sick fuck or something?
Bennett had to laugh, because, technically, the answer to that exceedingly vulgar question was a resounding /yes/. He was on his way to commit premeditated homicide, after all. But he meant the child no harm.
Here. He handed her the money.
The young woman squinted at him. Are you shitting me? She took it in her hand, turned it over, examined the bill for signs of forgery. By this time, her baby was flat-out screaming.
Have a good day, Bennett said, steering his cart in the opposite direction and walking away. He heard the little boy ask if he could hold the money.
Bennett moseyed into the grocery area and picked up some peanut butter and a six-pack of single-serving mixed fruit. He got some bottled water, some root beer, a loaf of whole-wheat bread, and some sliced turkey breast. He paid for his purchases with cash, then went into the mens room where he put on his new ensemble, including the ball cap. He stuffed his expensive clothing into a trashcan overflowing with damp paper towels.
His destiny called.
I wasnt expecting you, Gwen.
Regardless, the executive director of his charitable foundation was now standing in the middle of Ricks office, so he motioned for her to take the seat recently occupied by Teeny.
Timothy, a pleasure to see you as always, she said.
Miss Anders. Teeny acknowledged Gwen with a nod, then shot Rick a sharp look. Talk to you later, he said, walking out and closing the door behind him.
I had no choice but to barge in on you, Rick. Youve been avoiding me.
Gwen made herself comfortable in the leather-and-steel side chair, crossing her legs for maximum effect. Gwen was dressed, as usual, in a flawless custom-tailored pastel-colored suit, three-inch-high pointy-toed pumps that fell somewhere between basic business and overtly sexy. Shed worn her hair down, however, which was unusual for her, as she usually pulled it back in a bun or put it up in some kind of twist at the nape of her neck. Rick wondered if Gwen had something special planned for this particular visit.
I havent been avoiding you, Gwen. Rick returned to his desk chair. Ive been a little preoccupied lately.
Havent we all? Gwen gave him a tolerant smile. Then she reached into the portfolio case at her feet and pulled out an ultrathin laptop. She placed it on the surface of her tight skirt, opened it, clicked a single key, and spun it around to face him. On the screen was a colorful bar graph with a pronounced downward slope.
The Meadowbrook Foundation has lost eleven percent of its net worth in the last six months, due to the volatility of the market. Ive desperately needed your direction these past three weeks but youve ignored all my calls, e-mails, and text messages. So, Im here today to inform you that in the last thirty days alone, youve lost seven million dollars. In all good conscience, I should probably tender my resignation.
Rick shook his head slowly. Spare me the histrionics, Gwen. You know youve done nothing wrong.
Rick sighed. When his father died, he became the sole beneficiary of an estate so huge that seven million seemed like loose change. At first, all Rick could do was stare at the stack of papers his fathers legal team had delivered, baffled by the gibberish. He was still in severe pain and going to outpatient physical therapy five days a week. He had no idea what to do with all the money. In fact, he hadnt decided what to do with his life, or even if he deserved to have one.
The size of his fathers estateand the responsibility it entailedwas mind-boggling. It took Rick a few months, but he eventually decided to sever all ties with his past. His parents were gone and he had no brothers or sisters, so there was no reason to stay in Rhode Island. He sold the importing business to his fathers lifelong competitor. He cashed out his fathers investments, stashing most of it away in offshore accounts. And he began the long process of healingbody, mind, and spirit.
Even before his move out west, Rick took fifty million off the top to establish his foundation. He named it for the country road where he wrecked his bike and his life. One of his fathers attorneys recommended Gwen Anders to run it and Rick heartily agreed. She was brilliant, impeccably honest, and willing to do whatever was necessary to keep his name out of the public domain. His only interest was in helping people with traumatic head injuries receive the care they needed. He did it to ransom his spirit. He did it in Margots honor, because it was the only thing hed ever be able to do for her.
Well? Gwen waited patiently as Rick studied the graph. Then he met her gaze.
We start from here and do the best we can, he said. Its only money.
Gwen laughed, tossing her hair back as she did so. Interestingly, when hed hired her six years before, Rick barely noticed her beauty. It was as if hed cut himself off so thoroughly from the world of women that her stunning looks didnt register. Of course, his respect for her business acumen had grown over the years, and hed long ago privately acknowledged that she was extraordinarily good-looking.
But Rick hadnt been interested in Gwen. He hadnt been interested in women, period. So Gwen had taken it upon herself to change his mind with one barely suggestive comment or subtle tactical strike after another, for six years now. Her approach was so understated that he sometimes wondered if he were imagining it, but Teeny was always there to shed light on the truth: Gwen was determinedly, irrevocably, hot for her boss.
Ive made arrangements for us to have dinner with our team from Staunton and Blalock tonight. Gwen turned the laptop away from Rick and closed it shut, obviously annoyed that hed barely glanced at her hard work.
Tonight? Rick sat up straight. I cant.
Gwen laughed softly and shook her head. You have no choice, Rick. I know you say youve been preoccupiedand the nature of your distraction is none of my businessbut surely youve noticed that Wall Street is burning and were all choking on the smoke?
Rick nodded his head, pleased as ever that Gwen Anders was in charge. Im well aware of that, Gwen.
Good. Then youre also aware that Staunton and Blalocks client list is comprised of San Franciscos most elite investors, who are currently their most frantic and pissed-off investors. I had to throw a fit to get us this emergency meeting.
Tonight isnt good for me, Gwen. I have plans.
In silence, Gwen packed up her laptop and closed her portfolio, her hair hanging down across her face as she did so. She uncrossed her long legs, flipped her hair back, and stood. Rick stood with her.
Excuse me, Rick, she said matter-of-factly. But I was under the impression this foundation meant a great deal to you on a personal level. I assumed that you were dedicated to providing long-term care to as many underinsured and uninsured head injury patients as possible. I believed your mission was to help everyone who needed it.
It is, Rick said, his jaw tightening.
That mission takes money. The seven million we lost because of your preoccupation could have provided long-term care for a dozen patients, perhaps even giving back a life or two in the process.
Rick nodded, shoving his hands deep into his shorts pockets. Gwen, you know I have always appreciated your dedication to Meadowbrook.
Thank you.
However, I do not appreciate your attempt to manipulate me with guilt or any other emotion. It isnt working and never will.
One of her pale eyebrows shot high on her forehead. I would never attempt anything of the kind.
Good. Rick remained outwardly calm but inside he was fuming. Go tonight without me. Make the most prudent decisions possible. I am confident the foundation is in good hands.
Gwen beamed, as if their exchange had been tension-free. Thank you for your confidence, Rick. So, if I may ask, what plans do you have tonight that are so important?
He paused a second, wondering how to answer. On one hand, if Gwen knew he had a girlfriend, it might put an end to her fishing expeditions. On the other, knowing Rick had changed his policy on women could spur Gwen to double her efforts. It didnt matter, Rick knew. The truth was the truth. It was that simple.
Im getting takeout pizza with my girlfriend. Then were going to walk her dog around the neighborhood.
Gwen froze. It was as if her living flesh turned to solid ice before his eyes. She didnt flinch or breathe, but Rick knew what had to be flashing through her mindall those times hed turned down her invitations to chic picnics, black-tie fund-raisers, the opera, box seats at AT amp;T Park, quaint restaurants… the list had grown long in six years. In her stillness, Gwen was probably trying to grasp the fact that Rick had not only been disinterested in women as a matter of principle, but hed also been disinterested in her, specifically.
She blinked, the ice sculpture beginning to thaw. Did you say /girlfriend/? she asked.
He nodded.
Pizza?
Yes.
And a /dog/?
A Labradoodle.
Gwen put a hand to her throat, as if she were literally trying to stop a rise of bile.
I She laughed uncomfortably, shaking her head. But I thought… Im sorry, just a moment. She took a steadying breath and pasted on a cool smile. Is this a recent development?
It is.
Well, this comes as quite a shock, Rick. Ive always assumed… She stopped suddenly, tucking her portfolio under her arm. Ill send you a summary from the meeting, she said, her words clipped. If theres any recommendation you dont agree with, let me know immediately. We cant afford another day of fiscal hemorrhaging.
I will.
Good-bye, Rick.
With that, Gwen Anders strolled to Ricks office door, her hips and her straight yellow hair swaying as she moved. The instant her hand reached the doorknob, she looked over her shoulder. A set of pale blue eyes scanned Ricks face for a last-minute clarification, an explanation/something/.
See you, Gwen, he said. Thanks again.
Gwen Anders wasnt the type who slammed doors. So it surprised Rick when she did.
Beth? Josie couldnt believe her eyes. Her sister hadnt once come to see her at work in all the years Josie had been at the paper, and the day she decided to visit, she brought their mother! Mom? Oh, my God, whats wrong?
Josie heard the voice of Denise the newsroom receptionist from behind her shoulder. Conference Room A again? she asked kindly.
Josie nodded and mumbled her thanks, showing her sister and mother into the room. The things that went through her head were in this order: /Dad has had a heart attack; Donald has died in a plane crash; one of the babies has just been diagnosed with a terminal illness./ Her moms face was lined with exhaustion. Beth couldnt look Josie in the eye.
Just spit it out, Josie said. Dont torture me like this.
Well, Josies mother began, glancing quickly in Beths direction. Howie has asked your sister for a separation. Hes already moved his things out of the house and rented himself an apartment in town, close to work.
Josie shook her head as if to unplug her ears. This couldnt be right. /What?/ Beth looked up, her eyes unnaturally bright as they latched on to Josie.
So? Arent you happy? Arent you going to say you told me so?
Josie fell against the seat back, speechless. She had to remind herself that her baby sister was probably in shock and that a /whump!/ upside her head might not be in her best interest.
Thats enough, Beth, their mother said, her voice as tired as her face.
You said you needed Josies help and advice, so lets forgo the bitterness.
Beth looked down, wringing and twisting her hands in her lap.
Josie turned to her mother for some context. Want to fill me in?
Ann Sheehan sniffed. It was obvious shed been crying, so Josie reached out and touched her moms arm. Are the kids doing okay? Just answer me that.
Theyre oblivious, thank God. They think Daddys at work. Theyre with Grandpa right now.
Josie nodded, feeling some relief. Did the two of you have a fight, Beth?
A whopper, she said, still looking at her hands.
What about?
Beth shrugged, slowly raising her face. He came home late again and forgot to stop at the store like Id asked him to. I was really mean to him. I said some really awful things that I shouldnt have.
Okay. Josie looked to her mother, who rolled her eyes heavenward. What exactly did you say, Beth?
Well… I dont remember the /exact/ words.
Their mom blew out a hiss of air. Thats such a load of bullshit, Beth.
Just tell her what you told Howie. Hows your sister supposed to help you if she doesnt know what you did?
Josie tried not to look shocked. Shed never heard her mother say anything more than an occasional hell or damn, and every once in a while a Sweet Mother of Jesus would pop out, which, along with Shakespeares Greatest Hits, was reserved for times of true crisis.
Beth rolled her head around, looking at anything and everything in the conference room except her mother and sister. I told him he was as sexy as leftover meat loaf, she said very matter-of-factly. I told him Id be perfectly happy if he never touched me again as long as I lived. I told him he was useless as a father and I couldnt stand the way he smelled.
Josie shut her eyes for a second and thought, /Sweet Mother of Jesus./ Okay. Anything else? She couldnt believe she dared to ask.
Yeah. I told him I only married him because I knew hed take care of me financially. I told him I settled when I married him. That he didnt excite me and never really had.
Josie bit her bottom lip so hard she tasted blood. She glanced briefly at her mother, whose mouth was pulled into a narrow white line of distress.
Okay. So did you mean any of it?
Beth let out a groan. No! Maybe some of it. I dont know. I just She looked up at Josie with an expression of bewilderment. I think somethings wrong with me, Josie. Ive been so unhappy. Miserable. I ache all over. Im exhausted. Some days I cant even walk up the stairs. Some days I dont… I cant… I dont even like my own babies! Ive been too angry and tired to love my own kids!
Josie reached out and caught her sister as she fell forward into her arms. Josies mom leaned over and kissed the top of Beths head and handed her youngest child a stack of tissues. Beth cried and cried. Eventually, Josie patted her sister on the shoulder and asked, Whens the last time you went to the doctor, Beth?
She blew her nose in a tissue and shrugged. Whenever Chloes last checkup was, when she had her last round of vaccinations. I dont knowthree months ago or something?
Was that the pediatrician?
Beth nodded.
No, Beth. Im talking about /you/. When is the last time you went to a doctor and had a complete physical?
She looked at Josie like she was speaking a foreign language. Uh, when I was in college? I dont knowit had to be before I got pregnant with Calvin. But Ive been to the obstetrician more times than Id like to remember.
Calvin is almost four, Josie said.
Beth nodded, then blew her nose again.
Mom, she needs an appointment to see her doctor. In the meantime, Josie looked at her sister, Ill talk to Howie if its okay with you. Ill explain whats happening and ask him to hang in there.
Beth blew her nose yet again. I think it might be too late, but thanks, Josie. That would be great. Then Beth mumbled, Im sorry if Ive been mean to you, too.
Josie nearly laughed. Shed been waiting for that particular apology for thirty-one years, and now that shed gotten it, it didnt seem important.
She walked her mother and sister to the elevators and headed back to the newsroom.
As she passed Denises desk, Josie said, Listen, if anyone else comes up here looking for me, tell them Im at a funeral home convention or something.
Will do, Denise said.
Josie made a sharp U-turn. Oh, unless its a really handsome man with gorgeous green eyes and a serpent tattoo that runs up the left side of his neckyou can send him right on back to my cubicle!
Yeah, right. Denise laughed like that was the funniest thing shed ever heard. You are such a riot, Josie, she said.