The Life She Wants Part 18

"Riley is my boss and until Riley invites me to join her and the family, I'm staying back. She's keeping me at arm's length. Maybe someday, but not someday soon. But I so miss June."

"Understandable. Take your time. And tell me all about the job," he said.

"I told you," she said, finding a seat on a stool.

"Not really," he said, digging around for the tools of his profession-clippers, tape, scissors, foam, wire. "You did some groaning and whining about how exhausted you were but no details."

"We're not supposed to talk about details-the client, I am told, has an expectation of privacy."

"You aren't supposed to name them, Emmie, but you can tell tales to a person you can trust. That's me." He grinned. Then he stepped into the refrigerator and gathered up some stems, fern and baby's breath. "What's it like?"

"It's the hardest work I've ever done-and remember, I helped decorate a seventy-thousand square foot department store for holidays, on my feet, lifting and hauling and climbing for sixteen hours a day. I was a lot younger then, too. It's the hardest I've worked and I'm learning that to work for Riley is to get the best pay available for cleaners. Apparently clients cancel their contracts all the time and get cheaper cleaners but, because Riley and her two bulldogs, Makenna and Nick, keep everyone's standards really high, they end up returning and paying the money to get the good work. We do good work," she said, giving her head a shake. "Wow, do we do good work. And fast. I am appalled to note that there are so many jobs that pay better and have far less impact on the quality of life for a family. Families," she added. "You get a feeling for what family life is like in a house right away, which homes are run by the kids who have every possession imaginable and others don't even have family games. There are houses we clean where the wife hovers and inspects and says, 'My husband likes it this way or that way,' and houses I've cleaned four times and have yet to meet a home owner. You can pick out their nesting spot right away, the places that are used-a favorite chair, desk in the office, bathroom counter. We have one client who lies on the sofa watching TV until we get to that room, then she shifts to the bedroom. She eats all day and I've never seen her dressed in anything but loungewear. Some kids' rooms have awards and pennants and group pictures, some show no sign of any siblings or friendships or group activities. Some children's rooms are very, very sad."

"What makes a sad room?" he asked while he laid out a sheet of paper, placing baby's breath on it. The little ball inside the spray paint can bounced when Lyle shook it and with a quick, deft hand, he painted the baby's breath red.

"That's amazing, what you just did there," she said.

"Christmas colors. What's a sad room?"

"Well, there's a teenager's room that's so pristine it hurts. It's like a ghost room, but someone lives in it-there's evidence of living-trash in the bin, books moved, linens slept in, laundry in the hamper, towels in the bath have been used. When I moved the desk blotter to dust I saw something carved in the wood, something her mother would never see because her mother works long hours and doesn't clean or look at her daughter's things. She carved, I miss her every day. I a.s.sume she carved it. They're rich. They wouldn't have purchased a damaged piece of furniture."

"Wow," Lyle said, stopping his arranging. "Who do you think?"

"I don't know," Emma said. "Could be a sibling. There are no other children's rooms or family pictures anywhere. Maybe a friend? Grandmother? I have no idea. And you know what else, Lyle? I never realized this when I had help of my own but I realize it now. We're invisible. I always thought of myself as very tidy but now I wonder if I prepared for the cleaning staff-did I wipe the bathroom mirror? Clean the sink? Flush? Because now I see that some people don't."

"Ew," he said. "I certainly know I do those things."

"I think I did. I hope I did. But a hard truth for me is-I don't know the names of the ladies who cleaned our apartment. They changed regularly. But still..."

"My G.o.d, you're learning volumes about yourself. About people you don't know."

"It's humbling," she said.

"Are you humbled by who you are? Or who you were?"

"Both," she said.

She was so nervous. Anxious and nervous. She carried her centerpiece up the walk to June's front door and knocked. The door opened immediately and there she stood, looking only a little older.

"Emma! At last," June cried, embracing her at once.

Emma was left to balance the centerpiece in one hand and return the hug with the other.

"How I've missed you," June said. "I thought of you, prayed for you, hoped you'd come back to us. It's been so long."

Emma closed her eyes against tears. June's skin on her cheek was so soft, just as she remembered. She smelled faintly of Ivory soap, something so basic, clean and memorable. And she could smell clean sheets-June used to iron the pillowcases, and the smell of hot linen that filled the room gave Emma such comfort. The arms that held her were the same, just strong enough but not overwhelming. June knew just how to cradle a person.

"June," she whispered.

June backed away a bit and looked at her. "You've held up so well," she said, wiping Emma's cheeks with her thumb. "Shall we stand here in the doorway and cry or will you come in?"

"I've been so excited and so nervous," Emma said.

"Now, stop that," June said with a little laugh. "From the very first day we knew each other we knew we'd be friends. Close friends."

"This is for you," Emma said.

"Ah, our Lyle hasn't lost his touch at all, has he? He's getting even better. Thank you, it's so beautiful. Come in, come in."

There was a small noise, a little whine, and Emma looked down to see the oddest-looking dog.

"Emma, this is Beatrice. She's staying with me for a while until she can recover from her last owner. She's a rescue and I'm afraid she was quite mistreated. I'm a foster mother for the animal shelter. Beatrice was once very beautiful and will be again after a little love and attention."

"She's so sweet," Emma said, reaching out.

But Beatrice just skittered away, going back to her bed in the kitchen.

"She usually needs a little time to get used to new faces, new smells." June carried the centerpiece into the kitchen where she had the table set with two places, candles and winegla.s.ses. She put the flowers in the middle.

"Speaking of new smells... I haven't had fried spaghetti in so long. Since I was last at your house, I think."

"It's ready and in the warmer," June said. "We're going to light the candles, have a gla.s.s of wine and just talk for a while. Are you starving? I made us some crab rolls, just a little snack."

June busied herself getting the rolls, the wine, lighting the candles, then she sat down in the place next to Emma. She lifted her gla.s.s. "To your return, darling Emma."

Emma burst into tears.

It took her a moment and a couple of napkins to compose herself. June was the nearest thing to a mother she'd had and whether she'd admitted it to herself or not, she'd been afraid she'd never be reunited with her.

"Riley might not be okay with our private party," Emma finally said with a hiccup of emotion.

"Well, Riley's stubborn sometimes, but that's all right. Her pride and stubbornness probably got her through the tough times. She's a good woman. She's also logical and usually comes around eventually. And-I haven't mentioned this to her but not because I'm keeping secrets. Because she'd want to be here. And we need this time. I want you to tell me everything."

"Oh, June, you don't want to-"

"Yes, yes, I do. We always had the most important talks. About the hardest things, too. Tell me, Emma, did you love him?" she asked in a soft voice.

"I did," she said in a whisper. "I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world. In the universe. Richard was sophisticated and smart. He treated me as if I was some kind of precious gift. I loved him. I didn't think he was capable of doing anything terrible, of hurting people." She shook her head. "A couple of times I was selfish or demanding or complaining and he would just frown and say, 'Emma, Emma, this childish behavior doesn't suit your image at all. Don't you know how powerful you are? How many people watch you?' If I asked for something he would just say, 'Of course.' I thought he was kind. A few times I overheard him say things that were mean or harsh and if I questioned him he'd say he was sorry I had to hear that, that sometimes in business he had to be strong. Firm."

"Things like what, Emma?"

"Once I heard him on the phone, saying something like, 'That old b.a.s.t.a.r.d doesn't know what to do with his money anyway-he'll never miss it. Push on him a little bit harder and if you need me to, I'll call on him.' When I questioned him he said one of his clients was questioning his investment strategy, that he'd brought in more money in six months than the client's last broker had brought in over six years. And of course, he was sorry I'd seen him in such a negative light. June, he was so nice. Everyone loved Richard."

"You never knew what was happening," June said.

"But I did," she said in a secretive whisper. "I wouldn't let myself believe it. He had this PR person, Andrea. She'd worked with him for a long time before we got married. If he was having a relationship with her, why would he marry me? But they were together often. Sometimes she traveled with us. Sometimes with him-it was work. But I saw looks between them. Reckless, steamy looks. So I asked my husband-was he involved with Andrea? And he did what he did best-he calmed my worries, rea.s.sured me, said that was absurd. And later, much later, I learned Andrea was his mistress all along. Andrea was the one to tell him, 'It's time to marry for your image.' I wonder if he married me because I was too stupid to see what was in front of my face."

"No, no," June said. "He must have been that good at fooling people."

"But I let him fool me."

"What happened, Emma? What caused it to unravel?"

"The perfect storm. A couple of big clients didn't get good returns on their money and pulled out. There were flaws in the statements. Rich people have lots of CPAs running around, double-checking everything, and Richard made a few mistakes. Not mistakes-irregularities. There was a banking and investment corporation crisis and people were pulling their money out everywhere-no one wanted to be the last one holding the bag. Richard's funds were not insured or guaranteed. People were losing money everywhere else but not with Richard. Investments across the board were crashing like crazy, but not Richard's. A reporter from the Washington Post started sniffing around, angry and paranoid investors complained to the SEC, an investigation began..." She shrugged helplessly. "And I began to see a whole new Richard."

"Oh, Emma, was it terrible?"

"It was terrible," she said. "Want to know why I stayed? Why I went to court? Because it was the only way I was going to find out the truth. He wasn't going to tell me. I was making a.s.sumptions, I was guessing, I was reading the papers, financial journals, watching the news-and they got so many facts about me wrong, I couldn't be sure they were getting facts about him right. But at the trial there was evidence. I wanted to know who he was and what he'd done. I probably should have left. But I wanted to know."

June straightened. "That's what I would have done."

"You would?"

"Absolutely. Ignorance isn't really a happy place, it just seems like it for a while. I would have wanted to know."

"He thought he was a G.o.d, June," she whispered. "He thought he could do anything to anyone, that he was the most important person alive. He used people, lied to people, laughed at them."

"Emma, what was it like to be rich?" she asked.

"It was isolating," Emma said. "Most of the time I felt like I was just visiting my own life. Then I'd remember, I was hired to play a part-the part of the great Richard Compton's wife. I'd always wonder how many others were pretending to be who they were. When you have a big pile of money, it should mean security. Safety. It didn't. All our friends were rich and they worried about having the most, spending the most, trying to figure out how it could make them the best. They trusted no one. You know that silly saying, he who dies with the most toys wins? I think for a lot of people it's actually true."

"For a little while were you happy? Did you think you'd been crowned?"

"Looking back, not for very long. Two days into our honeymoon, Richard got a phone call that sent him hurrying off to Dubai and he couldn't take me-it was business. He worked long days, had business dinners, business trips. I was like a happy little girl whose daddy had finally come home when he spent an evening at home. He took employees along on vacations. He never rested. June, I loved him because I didn't know him. I didn't know him at all. By the time he was convicted I wondered how I'd been so easily duped. How I managed to stay blind-that's the part I don't get. How can I ever trust myself again?"

Chapter Thirteen.

Emma and June talked for hours, talked over dinner and then a cup of coffee. It reminded Emma of those times when she was a girl and she had issues or heartaches and she and Riley would sit on June's bed and talk it all out. When her father died and her stepmother and sisters weren't very comforting, June was there. Then it was worse when Rosemary remarried less than a year later, bringing home a man they didn't even know. A creepy man who made Emma so uncomfortable just by the way he looked at her. She was always at Riley's house and Rosemary didn't miss her at all. And June was constant, always there for her, no matter how tired she might've been. Even when Emma and Riley fell out, June wrote Emma a lovely letter saying she hoped one day they could make amends, but no matter, June would always love her like a daughter. "You are the daughter of my heart, Emma, and no matter what happens, I will always embrace you. If you need me, just call me."

It was ten o'clock when June nearly pushed her out the door. "I'm afraid to leave," Emma said. "I don't know when we'll ever have another chance to do this, to talk like this."

"There will be many chances, Emma. I promise. Maybe you'll invite me to your little house."

The second the cold night air hit her face, Emma realized she was emotionally exhausted. Wrung out. She was glad Adam's house wasn't too far away; she was so happy he invited her back tonight. She hadn't packed a bag or anything but she was going to impose on him, steal one of his T-shirts and curl up next to his big warm body and sleep forever, maybe till Sunday.

"Emma?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of a man's voice. She shrieked and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Oh, Jesus, sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"What are you doing here?" she asked, panting a little out of fear as who should come out of the shadows but Jock.

"I was waiting for you. I thought maybe we could talk. Just for a few minutes?"

"About what? And why are you waiting around here in the dark? How did you know where I'd be? Are you following me, Jock?"

"Oh, h.e.l.l no, Emma. Maddie told me you'd be visiting June tonight. In fact, I think Maddie helped plan it."

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"Maddie and her grandmother," Jock said. "You gotta watch those two. They're co-conspirators." He rubbed his hands together and stomped his feet, freezing.

"Why didn't you just call me?" she asked.

"Because Maddie didn't have your number. And I wasn't going to ask Adam or Riley." He snorted with laughter. "Oh, that would be interesting, like either one of them need another reason to be p.i.s.sed off at me." He blew on his hands. "Hey, could we just sit in the car for a few minutes? I won't take too much of your time."

"Why didn't you just tell Lyle you wanted to talk to me?"

"Because he might not have given you the message and even if he had, you might not have wanted to talk to me. Come on, Emma-it took me forever to get up my nerve. And I'm freezing!"

"Have you been waiting outside all this time?"

"I didn't think you'd be in there so long. And I didn't want to miss you. Look, I only want to apologize. Explain and apologize."

She shifted her weight to the right foot. "I don't know if that's wise, getting into the car with you, late at night, isolated like-"

He laughed. "Seriously? You think I'd hurt you? When did I ever hurt anyone, huh, Emma? My little girl told me where you'd be tonight. You think I'd do that to my little girl? For the love of-"

"All right, all right... But hurry up. I'm so tired I could lie down in the street right here and fall asleep!"

He put his hand on her elbow to steer her toward his SUV. "I know I'm a f.u.c.k-up, but I thought this was the right thing," he said, handing her into the car. He went around to the driver's side and got in. He started the car for heat and rubbed his hands together. "So, Emma, this isn't going to come as news to you-I cheated on you."

Emma couldn't help herself, a short burst of laughter escaped her. Then another laugh and another, until she had to put a hand over her mouth.

"I didn't think it was that funny," Jock said.

"I might be feeling a little emotional," she said, wiping tears of laughter off her cheeks. "I know, Jock. You were slightly unfaithful. Your daughter is now fifteen."

"Well, I pretty much screwed up everything. I'm sorry I hurt you."

"What about Riley?"

"I'm sorry I hurt her, too. But what I'm really sorry about is that I didn't get my s.h.i.t together in time to be a real father to Maddie. I mean, I'm a real father, don't get me wrong. I'm crazy proud of that girl. She really did get the best of me and Riley-she's beautiful and smart as her mother, she's fun and athletic. She's going to set the world on fire. I don't know what she's going to do-I bet a doctor or scientist or something. If I'd done the right thing fast enough, we'd be together, but h.e.l.l, I was a stupid kid. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't know how I felt. Plus, even if I did know, I couldn't put it into words. Or actions."

"No, Jock," Emma said, shaking her head. "We wouldn't be together. It didn't take me very long to come to that conclusion. We were falling apart right away. We were too young to hold together a long distance-"

"Not you and me, Emma. Me and Riley and Maddie. It's my fault, I get that. I didn't step up like I should have. To tell the truth, it scared me to death. I had a part-time job at a gym, for G.o.d's sake. I mostly picked up towels, wiped down equipment, showed people how to use the weights, checked IDs and got to work out for free. And that was right before I got a part-time job at the store-in shipping. I was in school, showing everyone how stupid I was, mostly. When Riley said we should tell you, I couldn't face it, couldn't face you. Couldn't face her family-you know how tight they are. Sheesh. So I was too late. When I did go back to her and suggest we get married, she told me to go to h.e.l.l." He shrugged. "Can't say I blame her, but I never got another chance."

Emma was a little stunned. "You cared about her?"