Chapter Twenty-Seven
". Yates, you've got a visitor," Norma said through the intercom. "Would you like me to send her in?"
"What the hell?" I muttered as I picked up the phone and dialed Norma's extension. "I don't remember scheduling a meeting this morning, Norma. What is this about? And since when did you start calling me Mr. Yates?"
"I believe this is a last-minute addition to your schedule, darlin'," Norma drawled more heavily than necessary to underscore her irritation with me. "You want me to send her in to chat with you?"
"Fine, send her in," I said in an exasperated tone as I threw up my hands and waited for my new priority to walk through the door. A few seconds later, the door opened, and Riley walked through. She looked at me from under her lashes, then turned and looked back at Norma who was standing guard, holding the door. Norma shot me a look that told me I'd be dead if I screwed this up, and only when I nodded that the message had been clearly received did she shut the door quietly.
"Riley, hey, c'mon in and have a seat," I said motioning to the chairs across from my desk. "Can I get you something to drink?"
"Do you have any soda?" she asked hopefully.
"I think I've got water and maybe some spoiled cream in this little fridge over here. But if you really want a soda, I can ask Norma to go get a couple for us," I offered.
"Nah, it's okay," she said as she dropped down into the chair closest to my desk and looked around. "This office is big, but it's really ugly."
"Yeah, it used to be my Pop's. He didn't have very good taste, apparently," I said shrugging. I watched her closely, trying to figure out how to proceed. "I've been trying to figure out what to do with it, but I didn't have any good ideas. What do you think?"
"Are you really asking me what I think, or are you doing that grown-up thing where you ask me just to have something to talk about?" she asked bluntly.
"No, actually, I really want to know your opinion," I said as I stood up and walked around the desk. I sat down across from her in the other chair and rested my elbows on my knees as I spoke. "I always have good ideas when it comes to stuff for other people but, when I have to decide for me, I never quite know what's right, you know?"
"Seems like a personal problem to me," she said picking at the hem of her shirt. I could tell she had something she wanted to say and that she was weighing the consequences of saying it by testing me.
"It probably is," I agreed. I decided that the path of least aggression was the best one to traverse with this child. So I waited.
It was an uncomfortable silence punctuated by Riley's fidgeting. I stayed as still as a statue and silently thanked my brother for teaching me the game despite the fact that I'd hated him intensely when he'd enforced the rules and then called me out when I broke them.
As I waited, my mind wandered. I wondered what was happening with Leah and why she wouldn't talk to me about it. Then my brain moved on to Sloan as I wondered what she had up her sleeve and tried to decide if my choice to cut off the sexual part of our relationship was a smart thing or if she'd . . .
"Do you miss your dad?" Riley asked cutting into my thoughts.
"That's an interesting question," I said as I rubbed a hand across my eyes and sat back in my chair. "Why do you ask?"
"I'm just curious," she shrugged before adding, "I don't know anyone who’s lost their parent, except you."
"Yeah, I guess you and I are kind of in that same boat, aren't we?" I nodded, wondering how I was supposed to handle this. I knew nothing about what had happened to her mother, and I didn't want to say the wrong thing and open up a can of worms.
"Do you miss him?" she repeated as she stared at me, waiting.
"Well, that's a difficult question to answer," I said as I thought about how to respond.
"You don't, do you?" she said. It wasn't an accusation, just an acknowledgement of the facts.
"No, actually, I don't," I admitted for the first time.
"Was he mean to you? Is that why you don't miss him?" she asked before looking away.
"Let's just say that my father was a difficult man," I said, carefully sidestepping the things I'd prefer not to discuss with a twelve-year-old.
"My mom was difficult, too," she said looking at me straight in the eye. "I loved her, but she was very difficult. Sometimes it was hard to love her."
"Yeah, I know the feeling," I nodded, thinking that as long as Riley was leading the discussion, I was okay admitting things that matched her observations.
"Sometimes I miss her, but most of the time I'm really glad that Leah is in charge of me—and not my mom," she said. "I know that's a bad thing to say because you're supposed to love your parents, but my mom wasn't as good at taking care of me as Leah is."
"Yeah, that's a hard one," I nodded. "My Pop wasn't around a lot, but when he was, he could be really tough. So, mostly I'm glad that it was my mother who raised us."
"Is your mom nice?" she asked.
"She is," I said with a smile.
"That's good," Riley murmured as she went back to playing with the hem of her shirt. I could tell she was thinking hard about something, but again, I didn't want to interfere with her thoughts or prompt her to say something she wasn't ready to say. I had no idea how to talk to kids, so I stayed silent and slipped back into my own thoughts, waiting for Riley to tell me what was on her mind.
I wondered if it had something to do with what was going on with Leah. I opened my mouth to ask, but then closed it before the words came out. It was none of my business and, if Leah wanted me to know what was going on with her, she'd tell me herself.
"We don't have a place to live anymore," Riley blurted out. "Gram burned us out of our house yesterday because she was smoking, and when she drinks she forgets about her lit cigarettes."
"Wait, what?" I said stunned that she was telling me this, but more stunned that I had no idea that this had happened.
"We stayed with my uncle Patrick last night but, he lives in the church, so there's no room for us. Besides, Leah and Patrick don't get along," she confessed. The more she talked, the easier it seemed to flow, so I stayed silent and let her tell me as much as she wanted to. I would ask questions once she'd gotten the whole story out.
"Leah says that we can stay in a hotel for a couple of nights, but I think she forgot to pay the insurance policy," Riley continued. "I heard her arguing with Uncle Patrick about selling the house, and she was crying because we don't have any place to live. She thinks it's her fault, but it isn't. It's Gram's fault for smoking and drinking."
I listened as the whole story came tumbling out of Riley's mouth. The grandmother who was an alcoholic, the uncle who was a priest, the missing mother, and all of it seemed to fall on Leah's shoulders. Riley talked about getting suspended and, as she did, she began to cry.
"Oh, now wait a minute," I said as I slid out of my chair and kneeled on the floor in front of her. I took her hand and said, "Why did you get in a fight with that girl in the first place?"
"She said mean things about my mom," Riley sniffed as she wiped the back of her free hand across her eyes. "She called my mom a whore and a junkie. I was sick of it."
"Sounds like just cause to me," I said. "Listen, when I was a kid, I was always getting in fights and getting suspended from school. My mother would scold me and tell me I had to do better—try and get along with people—but nobody ever asked me why I was fighting in the first place."
"Why did you fight?" she asked as she sniffed back a small sob.
"I didn't like it when the bullies picked on the little kids who couldn't fight back," I said quietly. "I knew what that felt like."
"You fought the big kids so they wouldn't beat up the little ones?" she asked hopefully.
"Yeah, but I didn't do a very good job of it," I admitted. "I wasn't much of a fighter."
"Doesn't matter," she said squeezing my hand. "You didn't let them just pick on those kids. I bet those kids were really glad someone stood up for them."
"I don't know," I shrugged, trying not to remember the moments of sheer terror I felt as I trudged home from school carrying yet another suspension notice in my backpack and knowing that at some point that evening I'd have to face my father.
"I do," she said patting my shoulder. "Because a couple of times there have been bigger kids who've stood up and defended me, and it felt good to know that I had someone looking out for me."
"Thanks," I said, giving her a grateful smile before redirecting the conversation. "But what are you guys going to do?"
"Me and Leah? Aw, we'll be okay," she said waving a hand at me as if none of this was a big deal. "We always find a way to get by."
"Is that so?" I said with an amused grin. There was something about her casual confidence that made her incredibly endearing.
Just then, Norma knocked on the door and said that I had an urgent call from one of the suppliers. Riley nodded at me and got up to go with Norma. As she reached the door, she turned around and said, "Thanks for the talk, Jack. I feel better. I hope you do, too."
Before I could answer, she turned and quietly closed the door behind her. I walked over to the desk, determined to end the call as quickly as possible because I had an idea about how to solve a number of problems.
The question was whether Leah would accept my solutions.