Bonds Of The Heart (2 page)

              Not that the calendars on the walls in her apartment, in her office, and on her cell phone didn’t have daily countdowns.

              She was going to surprise him when he touched down. She had planned it with her mother and everything was set up: the airline tickets, rental car, and even a special dinner. His favorite, burritos. Even though it was simple, they made it a family event with everyone pitching in and making a mess of the kitchen in the process. Erika smiled. With the thought of seeing her daddy again, Erika swore to herself that today would be a good day, even if she did only get maybe three hours of sleep last night worrying.

              Los Angeles traffic was not to be messed with. It was a monster all its own. You had to either accept it calmly and find ways to enjoy the morning commute with music or books on tape or you could be like the millions of people who lived here and develop severe road rage. Today Erika chose music, although most other days it was road rage that won out.

              When she finally made it to her office, it was raining so hard you’d think Noah’s Ark 2.0 should be making its debut at any moment. She dug out her umbrella, she exited her car and headed into her office. Scurrying across the parking lot, Erika managed to duck under the overhead awning just before a car sped past through a puddle barely missing her.
They really should fix that pothole
, she laughed to herself.

              “Good morning sunshine!” Maggie handed Erika her morning cup of java as she walked with her through the lobby of Byline Publishing House.

              Welcoming the caffeine, Erika took the cup from her best friend and sipped before answering. “Sunshine? Did you forget your glasses again? You do see it’s raining outside, right Mags?”

              “I know, but you have to try to be positive every chance you get. Too many negative things happening in this world.” Maggie pressed the call button for the elevators that would sweep them up to the fifth floor.

              “Just one of the things I love about you, Mags. Always so positive.” She smiled.

              “So what’s on the agenda for today,
Ms.
Gibbons?”

              Erika laughed at the way Maggie rolled off her name. Growing up it was always Erika or Hank’s Girl. “I have to get the Fields manuscript off to the printers. We’ll need to get that squared away before noon. Then I got another four manuscripts that came in late last night that need reviews, summaries, and to be sent back to the authors. The Roberts manuscript is a good one, and that should be sent to Cameron for full copyediting. I think he’d get a kick out of the plot. Murder mystery meets aliens from outer space.” Erika rolled her eyes as Maggie’s laugh echoed through the hallway on their way to her office.

              Erika glanced at the phone on her desk that had a little voicemail icon flashing. There was bound to be at least a dozen calls she’d have to return this morning. She watched Maggie settle into one of the chairs in front of her desk. She had met Maggie on her first day at the publishing house and the two became friends immediately. Maggie shortly became her first real friend in the big city. Now they were practically inseparable, like sisters.

              Maggie had already been working at the publishing house for a few months before Erika was hired. At the time, Maggie was an assistant to one of the senior editors who taught Erika everything she knew about the business and the city. Being an only child, there wasn’t much that Erika knew. Her mother had taught her all the things that mothers could teach their daughters, but it wasn’t the same. Erika considered Maggie like the sister she never had. They had shared wardrobes, tips on dating, and—she laughed to herself—once even a guy. That was something never to be repeated.

              Poor Charlie didn’t know what he had coming when he had found out he was dating the both of them. Both continued to date Charlie for about another week before planning to meet him at one of their favorite bars, Paddy’s Pub. The plan was executed perfectly. She was to meet Charlie at the bar and have a few drinks with him. Maggie would just happen to walk into the same bar. As the sweat glistened off Charlie’s forehead when he saw Maggie walking toward them, Erika had to fight off the laughter and guilt at equal measures. Maggie had said hello to him, turned to Erika and the two women engaged in their normal conversation leaving Charlie at the bar, with the tab, a look of purse confusion and anxiety on his face, never to be seen again. He got off lucky, Maggie had said. She would have preferred to brand him, but Erika couldn’t be that cruel. It was the most humane way to neuter him, Erika thought fondly.

              “If you want to hand off some of those manuscripts to me, I’ll take a stab at them. I just finished off a stack yesterday.”

              “You don’t stop do you? Always working. When do you take time for yourself?”

              “When I find the time. I take kickboxing to let the stress out. You’d be surprised how good it feels to have your fist connect with the bag and just have all your frustrations released. It’s better than hitting a guy—sometimes. And we have our girl’s nights.”

              “Yes we do,” Erika smiled, “which reminds me, I need to pick up another bottle of wine since you finished mine off last night.”

              “Sorry.” Maggie laughed.

              Erika shook her head and reached for her phone. “Give me a minute and let me check these messages. Then we can go over what I have waiting for me and see if I can hand any off to you.”

              “Sounds good, I’ll just check out this alien story while I wait.” Maggie picked up the thick manuscript Erika had placed on her desk and filtered through it.

              She handed off a few manuscripts to Maggie and responded to emails from agents trying to push their author’s work. Some she had to turn down. Others really piqued her interest. There was a story about two EMS workers who notice a string of victims who soon become secret detectives to try and solve the case.
Not bad.
She’d pass that one off to Walter. He’d have fun editing that since he was once an EMS technician himself.

              A loud growl from her stomach had her checking the clock. Four hours had passed without her realizing. She dialed Maggie’s office to drag her to lunch. She grabbed her purse from her bottom desk drawer just as Maggie walked through the door.

              “I thought you’d never call. I was starting to waste away.”

              “You? Waste away? To what? Thin air? It’s only just a few minutes after noon.” Erica knew Maggie’s vigorous exercise routine personally after Maggie tried to get Erica involved one Saturday afternoon. She was a couch potato for the rest of the week with sore muscles she never knew she had.

              “Well…” Maggie stares down Erica as the phone rings. “No don’t answer it! I’m so hungry I could eat the whole buffet.” Maggie tried to place her hand over the phone as its ring echoed throughout Erika’s office.

              Erika checked the caller ID. “It’s my mom. As soon as I’m off we’ll leave. Sit, it won’t take more than a minute. Promise.”

              “Fine,” Maggie pouted and slumped into the chair, “but if I disappear before your eyes it will be your fault.”

              Erika laughed and picked up the phone. “Hi, mom!”

              “Erika?”             

              “Mom? What’s wrong?” Erika grasped the side of her desk to keep her legs from giving out at the tone of her mother’s voice. Her mother’s voice shook. Erika’s knuckles whitened around the receiver. Maggie immediately sat up at hearing the panic in Erika’s voice.

              “I…You need to come home dear. There’s been an accident.”

              “Are you okay? It’s that damn car isn’t it? I told you get a new one.” Oh God, she hoped that was the problem her mother was calling about and not…

              “No Erika.” Her mother let out a sob. Erika crumbled to floor. “It’s your father. He’s not coming home.”

              “Daddy! No!” Erika cried, fierce sobs, that shook her entire body. She dropped to the floor pulling her knees to her chest. Tears streamed down her face, as Maggie reached her side cradling Erika in her arms. “Not daddy! Please, God, no! No, no, no!”

Three

***

“Another one, Joe.”

              “All right, Blake, but last one. Closing up soon and you’ve been here too long, knocking back a few too many. You need me to call you a ride?”

              “I’m walking.” Blake grumbled to the empty beer bottle in front of him.

              It had been two weeks since the funeral. Two weeks since laying his brother in the ground. Two damn painful weeks of memories flooding his mind. Memories of years spent muddin’ in the backwoods fields, fishing along the river, sneaking beer out back of Old Man McGee’s barber shop. There should have been more memories made. There should have been more time.

              Blake sat on the old barstool at Joe’s Tavern. The aged hardwood stool under him could cut off the circulation to most men with the hours and nights he’d spent there over the past two weeks, but the beer and whiskey helped numb his body along with his feelings.

              Somewhere inside, he knew he needed to sober up. There were new responsibilities to deal with along with his old ones. He pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and through blurry vision located his boss’s office number. He clicked one button and waited for the voicemail to pick up. It was close to two in the morning, he was drunk as a skunk and still feeling the pain but that didn’t matter. Blake nearly smiled as the voicemail picked up. If you could call a smirk a smile.

              “Bern-ie…It’s Blake…Hamilton.” He slurred. “I quit. I thought you should know.” And with one click he shut his cell and placed it on the bar.

              Blake picked up his last shot of whiskey and downed the warm amber liquid without so much as a wince. It no longer burned the back of his throat. He chased it with a few gulps of the last beer Joe had placed in front of him. Rubbing his forehead with one hand, he tried to rub away the pain of losing his brother. But it never worked. No matter how much he drank, no matter how much he drowned himself, there was no escaping the pain.

              “Blake.”

              Blake didn’t even bother to turn at the sound of the voice calling him. He didn’t want to leave just yet.

              “Blake,” the voice was gentler, “Let’s go home.”

              “Not yet.”

              The woman moved to him with a sigh. She placed one hand on the bar and one on his shoulder. “I know it hurts, honey. We’re all hurting.”

              Blake grumbled to fight off the emotions as best he could. He was never a guy to cry, but damn it he wanted to. Sometimes, alone on the couch in the living room, he did when he knew everyone else was asleep.

              “Come on, Blake. Let’s get you home.”

              Blake turned to the woman at his side. She was pale, her once-bright hazel eyes puffy and her cheeks tearstained. Her normally tidy shoulder-length hair was pulled back loosely with a clip from which wisps fell out unmanaged. The past few weeks had aged her beyond her fifty years. Blake knew they had aged him as well.

              Blake nodded and slowly unfolded himself from the bar stool. He swayed, holding onto the bar to steady himself.

              “Joe, could you help me?”

              “Sure, Mrs. Hamilton.”

              “Where’s Robbie, mom?”

              “He’s home sleeping.”

              “Good. Good.” He mumbled.

              Joe rounded the bar and draped Blake’s arm around his shoulder. He didn’t speak as he supported Blake’s weight and steadied him on the walk to his mother’s car. Outside, the cool air hit him head-on. A cool, early spring night like this one where he and Jared had gotten drunk together for the first time. They had spent all night laughing over stupid crap he couldn’t remember. Then they had spent the entire next day hung-over. But this hangover wouldn’t be with his brother. It would be just him, on the couch in his brother’s house.

              “Thank you Joe,” he heard his mother say.

              “No problem. If you need anything, you let Missy know and we’ll be there to help.”

              Blake closed his eyes and fought the urge to pass out. His mother wouldn’t be able to carry him into the house. And he didn’t want to wake up Robbie. Once home, he’d take out another beer and deal with more of the pain then. Alone.

              His mom didn’t speak on the car ride home. She never did. For the past two weeks, he’d spent each night at the bar. And almost every night, she or his father would come drag his ass home.

              “Blackie’s has to re-open,” his mother said flatly. Blake simply grunted.

              “You need to decide what you’re going to do.”

              “I already know. I quit my job.”

              There was a small gasp followed by a sigh before his mom answered. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

              “No. But it’s what I have to do.”

              “Blake…”