Finders Keepers (7 page)
Authors: Fern Michaels
“Because we aren't going to Atlanta. At least I'm not. You can do whatever you please. I warn you, though, I will tell Jessie of your intentions.”
Thea's hands fluttered in the air. “Jessie has never gone away on her own before. She'll be driving alone. Things happen.”
“Jessie is a responsible adult. She will rise to any occasion except possibly where you are concerned.”
“What does that mean, Barnes?”
“It means whatever you want it to mean. Furthermore, I am not moving back to Atlanta. You can do whatever you want.”
“If you think for one minute I'm going to allow my child to be in that city alone and unchaperoned, you are mistaken. She has no idea what the real world is like.”
“Then it's high time she found out. Get that thought right out of your head.”
“I'll go alone.”
“I'll cut off your funds, Thea. Or, I will do what you consider the unthinkable.”
“Don't threaten me, Barnes. I have enough to endure as it is.”
“Coffee's ready, Daddy,” Jessie called from the kitchen.
“It's your choice, Thea. Join us or stay here.”
Jessie's voice was flat and devoid of all emotion when she said, “Oh, Mama, I didn't see you at first. Aren't you up early?”
Thea took a deep breath before she replied. “I wanted to be ready to see you off. Daddy and I are going to miss you. This will be your first trip alone away from us. Give her some money, Barnes.” She sidled closer to her daughter, who inched away from her. It was so obvious Barnes had to turn away so he wouldn't see the tears in his wife's eyes.
“I don't need any money.”
“That is an absolutely horrendous outfit you're wearing. I've seen ragpickers who look better. Where did you get that sweater? Red is not your color, Jessie. It washes you out. I don't like red sweaters. Take it off.”
“I like red sweaters, Mama. When I was little I had a red sweater.”
“You certainly did not,” Thea screamed.
Jessie's jaw dropped as she gaped at her mother.
Barnes's voice was gentle. “I think perhaps you forgot, Thea. Sophie's mother gave Jessie a red sweater once.”
“Oh. Well, perhaps you're right. You never wore it though, Jessie. Anything red on blond-haired people looks garish.”
“Move past this, Thea, before it gets out of hand,” Barnes hissed in her ear.
Her mother's voice was so controlled, so tight-sounding, Jessie could only stare at her when she said, “Tell us about the party. How many people will be attending?”
“A hundred or so.”
“Good heavens,” was all Thea could think of to say.
“It's time for me to go. It won't be so hot and sticky this early. Do you want to say good-bye here or out by the car?”
“I don't want to say good-bye at all. You're just going to Atlanta for a party. Promise me you'll call the minute you get there.”
“Mama, stop worrying. I'll call.”
“Where are your bags?”
“I put them in the car earlier.”
“What are you wearing to the party? You didn't even tell me, Jessie. We used to share everything. If this party is so important, why didn't you show me your dress?”
“I didn't buy a dress, Mama. I'm going to wear one of Sophie's. It seemed silly to spend the money on a dress I'll only wear once. Sophie and I are the same size. You should drink your coffee before it gets cold.”
“When will you be home?”
Jessie gritted her teeth. “I don't know.”
“Call us when you're ready to leave.”
“Sophie wants me to stay for the week. I might.”
“A whole week,” Thea gasped. “But that means you'll only be home one day, and then it's time to leave for college. You left everything to the last minute. You need new clothes, bed linens, a new trunk. . . .”
Jessie shrugged.
“What is that . . .
thing?”
thing?”
“It's a knapsack,” Jessie said, slinging a heavy, green-twill bag over her shoulders. The red sweater stayed in place.
“Come along, ladies, and I'll escort you to the car.”
“Come here, sweet love, and give Mama a big kiss and hug.”
Jessie suffered through the obligatory kiss and hug. She pretended not to see the tears rolling down her mother's cheeks.
“Daddy, have a nice weekend. Take Mama for an ice-cream cone. She thinks that makes everything better.” She felt herself flinch when her father whispered in her ear. “You aren't coming back, are you?”
Jessie looked in her father's eyes. She couldn't lie to this man who had intervened so many times on her behalf over the years. “No, Daddy.”
“I'll miss you.”
“Bye,” Jessie called from the driver's seat as she backed up her car.
Today was the first day of a whole new life.
She didn't look back.
4
Jessie sighed with relief when she finally parked the BMW under the Ashwoods' portico behind Sophie's sporty Mercedes coupe. She looked at her watch. Five hours exactly from the moment she left the bank parking lot.
“God, I was starting to worry, Jessie,” Sophie said, throwing her arms around her friend. “Did you have any trouble? What you need is a drink. You look ghastly. I do like your âdon't give me any shit' outfit. Your mother must have had a fit. Did you hit the bank? Did you bring all your worldly possessions? How long are you going to stand there?” It was all said in one breathless rush.
Jessie laughed. “Smooth as silk. Everything worked out, so far, just the way you said it would. Daddy knows, thought. He asked me point-blank, and I didn't deny it. He won't do anything. For whatever it's worth, he understands. I think he even sympathizes with me. I made it to the bank as soon as it opened and took a generous hit on my money. I brought everything that means anything to me. Oh, I bought two red sweaters, and my mother freaked out. Lord, it must be a hundred degrees.”
Sophie laughed. “Put your suit on and take a dip with me. Everything is ready for the party. We don't have to do a thing except sell your car and get you a new one. It will only takes us thirty minutes to do it. I called ahead, and all the paperwork is done. I ordered you a Jeep. A real Jeep. Bright red.”
“You didn't!”
“I honest to God did!”
“I love you, Sophie Ashwood.”
“And I love you, Jessie Roland. I think we're going to be best friends all our lives.”
Jessie stared at her friend without a trace of envy. To say Sophie was beautiful would be the understatement of the year. She had a golden wealth of hair she wore piled high on her head for height, so curly it was unmanageable. She had inherited her dimples and chocolate-colored eyes from her father. Her patrician nose and high cheekbones were her mother's. Her perfectly proportioned body was pure Sophie. She exercised, swam, played tennis, and basically was a vegetarian. With her infectious personality she had the rare ability, on meeting someone for the first time, to put them so at ease they became instant friends. From kindergarten on she had always been in the top three percent of her class. If Sophie had any faults, it was that she loved to curse for shock value and had a hair-trigger temper.
“My mother would skin you alive if she saw you in that bikini,” Jessie said.
“Your mother isn't here. I got you one just like it but in green to match your eyes. I laid it out on the bed. Go ahead, do your thing. I'll be out by the pool waiting for you.”
“Did you get a wrap for the suit?” Jessie asked.
“Nope. You will have to parade through the house showing all that skin. Wait till you see the dress I picked out for tonight. Slits, bare shoulders, no back. Did I say tight? You can't wear underwear.”
Jessie gasped. She could hear Sophie laugh all the way to the pool.
She was doing the right thing. She really was.
Jessie eyed the skimpy bikini and the sheer wraparound skirt wadded into a ball that wasn't supposed to be there.
She'd been here before, in this very room that was next to Sophie's with a connecting door. The first time she'd come here for an overnight stay, along with her parents, was when she was eleven or so, and Sophie had complained to her mother that there should be a connecting door between the rooms. The very next day there was a door. What Jessie really liked was the fact that there were locks on all the doors in the Ashwood house. Perfect for keeping overbearing mothers at large. Or in Sophie's case, a neglectful mother. Jessie only remembered seeing Janice Ashwood a couple of times.
The room was extra large for a bedroom, and so luxurious Jessie had a hard time imagining the amount of money spent on the costly furnishings. Ankle-hugging carpeting tickled her bare toes as she walked around touching costly figurines and crystal accent pieces. The room was decorated in champagne-colored brocade, imported lace, and satin. A film director would have been hard-pressed to come up with a room that looked half as luxurious. A flowering deep pink dogwood in a Ming urn complemented the priceless paintings in soft summer colors that adorned the walls.
The big question was, how did one turn this room into a sanctuary? One didn't, she decided. It was just a perfect room like all the rooms in the Ashwood mansion, except for Sophie's room, which was such a mess you had to kick stuff out of the way just to walk through to the bed.
The magnificent room boasted three telephones with three separate numbers, just like Sophie's room. The white phone was for parents' calls and never answered. The blue phone was for friends and answered all the time; the beige phone was for any young man who had the desire to call. She really should call her mother, Jessie thought. A promise was a promise. It would be her last phone call. She could rehearse her conversation while she changed into the bikini. From past experience she knew it wouldn't work because her mother went off on tangents she had to respond to.
“I need a tan,” she moaned when she viewed her slim figure in the long, gilt-edged mirror hanging on the bathroom door.
Sophie poked her head in the door. “What's taking you so long, Jess?”
“I'm trying to make up my mind if I should call home now or wait?”
“What do you feel like doing?”
“Not calling at all. I did promise, though.”
“Then do it and get it over with. The water's great since we put in the heater. I do like that suit. Maybe we can all go skinny-dipping tonight when the party winds down.”
“You wouldn't!”
“I would. I've done it. Believe it or not the girls aren't shy about it, but the boys kind of flinch and hold their hands in front. It's worth it to just watch them. Everybody checks everybody else out. I say if you got it, show it. You don't have to do it, Jessie, but it is fun. So, are you going to call or not?”
“I guess I might as well. Don't go. Stay and listen.” Sophie perched on the edge of the bed. “How many times do you think your mother will call while you're here?”
“Every ten minutes. You were such a genius for coming up with the three phones. Isn't it expensive, though?”
“My mother doesn't care. We have so much money we could probably burn a pile of it and no one would notice, especially the bankers. My mother's favorite expression is âSend me the bill.' ”
“It's a good thing she married that rich Greek the first time around.”
“You're not kidding. She inherited everything he had. My father was so poor my mother had to buy him a suit to get married in. She said he was good in bed.” Her voice turned flat when she said, “And then he drank himself to death a year after I was born.”
“We are two misfits. You realize that, don't you, Sophie?” Sophie nodded. “I don't know which is worse, a mother like mine or one like yours. Have you seen her at all this year?”
“She came home for Easter and managed to rustle up an Easter basket she left by my door Easter morning, then she was off again. She spends all her time these days getting cosmetic surgery in Europe. She looks younger than I do. You wouldn't recognize her. Hell, I didn't recognize her, and she's my mother. The last time she called she said, and this is a direct quote. âDarling, youth is fleeting so enjoy it while you have it. Buy what you want, do what you want, and have the bills sent to the attorneys.' So, I do what she says.” Sophie's voice turned so fierce her eyes started to water. “I don't ever, ever want to end up like my mother. Right now as we speak she's traipsing around Europe with some guy who is only three years older than me. When he works he paints houses. When my mother gets tired of him she'll settle some money on him and he'll live out his life in luxury. She's incredibly generous to the men in her life.”
It was nothing new to Jessie. She'd heard it all before. The only thing that changed was the name and occupation of the man in Janice Ashwood's life. “Do you have money of your own, Sophie. Like a savings account or checking account?”
Sophie hooted. “I have a trust fund that gets replenished every year. Mother sold off a couple of those Greek shipping tankers and put all the money in my fund. I think she has seventy-three more to sell off. It's disgusting, isn't it?”
“What are you going to do with all that money?”
“Spend it as fast as I can.”
“On what?”
“Something will come to me. Do you need money, Jessie?”
“No. You've already put out a lot of money for me. When I'm settled I'll start to pay you back. Sophie, what would you do if you weren't rich?”
“Look at me, Jessie. The money has nothing to do with my abilities. I have a brain. I'm a quick learner. I have a wonderful memory that serves me well. I'm fortunate in that respect. I think I will make an excellent architect someday. Who knows, you might want me to design a house for you when you decide to get married. The plans will be my wedding present to you. Spending my mother's money . . . my money, however you want to look at it is . . . my way of punishing my mother. In the beginning I thought she'd take notice when the bills started rolling in. She didn't even flutter her artificial eyelashes. I started spending more and more until there wasn't a damn thing left to buy. She still didn't notice. To answer your question, I would persevere and then I would prevail. That's what it is all about, my friend. We're alike in so many ways and unlike in others. You have persevered in your own way. As of today you are prevailing. I envy you because I don't know when it will be my time to prevail. It will happen, though.”
Her voice turned dreamy. “I'm going to build a bridge someday that will be so magnificient the whole world will notice Do you know why I want to build a bridge?” Not waiting for Jessie's response, she rushed on. “You start with nothing. Then you build a bridge that will take you someplace you wouldn't have been able to go. When it's done and you cross it you have the option of going on to that wonderful place or going back. Do you think that's sad?”
Jessie nodded. “Swear to me, Sophie, that no matter what road you or I take or whatever happens in our lives, that we will always be friends. I don't mean that we have to call each other incessantly or write every week. I want to know that you will always be there for me the way I will always be there for you. I want you to swear, Sophie.”
Sophie's face turned solemn. “I swear, Jessie. Look, let's scratch the swim and go to town so we can turn your car in. Are you still planning on leaving in the morning?”
“Yes. There will be less traffic on a Sunday. I have to unload the car first, though.”
“First you are going to call your mother and get that out of the way. Want a cigarette?”
“Sure.” Smoking was something they used to do in the playhouse with the windows closed.
“She's sitting there with her hand on the phone. I'll bet you ten dollars she picks up before the first ring is finished.”
“Hey, Jess, this is me. That's a sucker bet. Just do it!”
Jessie rolled her eyes when the phone in Charleston was picked up the moment it started to ring. Sophie flopped back on the bed, her hands laced behind her head.
“I got here about an hour ago. For heaven's sake, Mother, why did you do that? Do you have any idea how embarrassing it's going to be when the police come knocking on the door? I said I would call. I'm calling. Why are you crying, Mother? If you don't stop, I'm going to hang up. We're going swimming. Right now we're drinking beer and smoking cigarettes. Yes, the police officer will smell it on me. That doesn't make me trashy. All right then, it makes me trashy. I don't care, Mother. You can call as often as you like. We probably won't hear the phone with the party and everything. I didn't look at the dress. Would you like to talk to Sophie so you can ask her? She said you don't wear underwear with it.”
Sophie buried her face in the pillow, her whole body shaking with laughter.
“Mother, you had better not show up here. I will not allow you to humiliate me like this.”
Sophie reared upward when she heard the silent scream building in Jessie's voice. She made a violent move with her hand for Jessie to cut off the conversation. “It's time to go, Jessie,” she called loudly.
“I have to go now, Mother. Sophie is waiting for me. We are talking, Mother. Actually, no, Mother, I don't want to talk to you. I'm on a holiday. I thought we agreed that this was my time. Do some needlepoint or go out with Daddy. I left my room tidy. Why did you have to do anything to it? I know you love doing it, but you just made work for yourself. I don't know why the room looks like no one was ever in it. Maybe it's because you wouldn't allow me to do anything but sit and sleep in it. Mother, I am much too old to blow you kisses over the phone, and I will not say all those gushy things either. I'm eighteen. You're crying so hard you can't hear a word I'm saying, so I'm going to hang up. Good-bye, Mother.”
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