Going For Broke (23 page)

             
“Don’t,” Victoria warned.

             
Barbara didn’t miss a beat.  “And good morning to you too.”  She went about her business of washing up the dishes in the sink, getting herself a cup of coffee and pouring a bowl of Rice Krispies.  She took a seat at the table next to Victoria. 

             
“Can you pass the sugar, Lucy?”

             
“Very funny, mother.”  She put a hand to her red head, as if to make sure it was still there.  She pulled a section of hair and looked at it.  Yup, still red.  She heaved herself on the table.  “I look hideous!”

             
Barbara couldn’t help but smile.  It was like having a teenager back in the house again.  She stroked the back of Victoria’s head.  “Come on honey, it’s not that bad.”

             
Victoria popped back up, on the verge of tears.  “You’re just saying that!”

             
Barbara tucked a piece of hair behind Victoria’s ear and surveyed her daughter’s face.  “You are a beautiful girl.  I think you can carry it.  You know, I think it suits you.”

             
“It’s a disaster, mother.  I know one when I see it.  I’ve been living a disaster for the past three months.  Now I have hair to match.”

             
Barbara was surprised.  Victoria had held it together fairly well (television marathons and junk food binges notwithstanding) so far and had not displayed any real emotion about her current situation.  “What can I do to help?”

             
“Cut it all off?”

             
“Your hair is hardly the issue,” Barbara said.

             
“It’s one issue I can control.  Or thought I could.” She threw her head back on the table.

             
“I think you’re doing a amazing job, considering the circumstances.”  Victoria lifted her head a bit to look at her mother with a skeptical eye.  “Really, think about it Vicky.  You managed to get yourself out here, settle your kids in school, and you even found a job.  A lesser woman would have crumbled by now.”

             
“Maybe I want to crumble.”

             
“You don’t have it in you.  You’re strong, Vicky.”

             
Victoria looked at her mother on the edge of tears.  She wanted to be eight years old again, crawl into her mother’s lap and have her tell her that everything would be okay. 

             
“How did you do it, Mom?”

             
“Do what?”

             
“After Daddy died.  He left you with nothing.”

             
“Nothing but you.  He left me with you.”  For the first time in years, Victoria let herself succumb to her mother’s embrace.

             
             
             
             
             
             
###

             
On the train the next day down to see Mercedes, Victoria didn’t even try to avoid Mike.  She had begun to accept that he was part of her life now, like it or not.  She grabbed a seat on the main level, and he sat next to her.  She wasn’t exactly a morning person, so she contented herself with reading the paper.  This suited Mike just fine.  He didn’t care for women to felt a need to talk all the time. 

             
Swept of the train with the sea of commuters, Victoria and Mike got separated for a few minutes.  Victoria was surprised that her first instinct was to look around to find him, like a mother separated from a child at a crowded amusement park.  She had to laugh, as the last time they ventured downtown, she spent most of her energy trying to ditch him.

             
He caught up with her and fell into step.  “Hi, Red.” 

             
She kept walking, not wanting to give him the benefit of a response.  The train station was on the West side of Chicago’s downtown which is known as  “The Loop”.  So when they exited the train station, the majority of the commuters headed east, towards the skyscrapers and offices.  She and Mike, along with a motley handful of train riders, went west.  There they would find an assortment of old loft buildings that were once inhabited by starving artists, but now were the domain of developers and the super-hip urban professionals that followed them.  There was still a vagrant scent to the area, which just underscored how out of place Victoria looked and felt.

             
Which is why Victoria was surprised, to say the least, to see Scott Simons walking out of one of the less-developed buildings on the street.  He recognized her instantly, and approached them with a great smile.

             
“Vicky!  Imagine that.  I don’t see you for 25 years, and now you’re everywhere!”  He gave her a kiss on the cheek, like they were expressing pleasantries over cocktails at the country club.  He managed to check her out quickly and liked what he saw.  “You are looking fantastic!”

             
Yeah, that’s what you told me when I was in Bud’s sweatpants in the drugstore.  She knew a bullshitter when she saw one. 

             
“You too,” she said, noticing that while he was a still as handsome as ever, his belly was looking a little soft through his polo shirt.  Apparently no FBI training program for him.  He looked older than Mike, by a good five years.  Holy crap! Did that mean that she was older than Mike by a good five years?  Or was Scott just aging poorly.  Must be the latter.  She was curious what he was doing in this part of town, but didn’t want to ask, because she knew he’d want to know the same thing about her.

             
“So what brings you to this part of town?” Bingo.  She hemmed and hawed a little, but Scott apparently had the attention span of a teenager, and had moved on to Mike.  “Hey there, Scott Simons.”

             
Mike gave him a firm handshake and little information.  “Nice to meet you.”

             
“I’m just running out for some coffee - the office is just inside,” he said.  He really was like a big slobbering puppy with a too-soft belly.  He couldn’t have been more friendly.  Unfortunately, he was talking to two of the least friendly people he could find.

             
“You should come on up - you’d love it!  I’ve got a little marketing agency upstairs.   Right now we’re working on a new software account that specializes in games for X box and the like.   They’ve come up with some really outrageous games.  You don’t have any teenage boys, do you?”

             
Okay, she knew he was trying to be friendly, but
teenage boys
?  How old did she look? She thought she could still date teenage boys.  No thanks.

             
Mike jumped in.  He put his arm around Victoria (was that the distinct scent of testosterone she noticed?) and started to lead her away.  “We really should get going.  We’ll be late.”

             
Mike didn’t give Scott a chance for lengthy goodbyes.  Scott was left standing in the street, waving after them.

             
“Who was that tool?” Mike hated him on sight.

             
Victoria stole a look at Mike.  “Don’t be jealous.  He’s not CIA, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

             
“Some people just try too hard,” Mike said.

             
Victoria completely agreed, but Mike had her on the defensive.  “He’s a great guy,” she said, not really believing it.  “You have to admit, he is one good-looking man.” She had to stick it to Mike, if just a little bit. 

             
“I prefer your friend Martha, back in town,” he said, smiling.  He knew how to press her buttons.  “She had enormous personality,” he said, gesturing with both hands, right at chest level.

             
Victoria hit him on the arm, and pulled back quickly.  Not because she was worried about hurting Mike, but because that was an action reserved for friends.  Mike Towner, FBI, was no friend.  He was damn charming though,  and he made it easy to forget that fact.

             
They arrived at Mercedes’ office early.  The receptionist instructed them to wait, which was not something Victoria did well.  She tried to sit with the newest issue of Michigan Avenue Woman, though the only article she could find was an travel article about a Pig Fest in Kewanee, Illinois.  Like any Michigan Avenue Woman would find themselves at a Pig Fest.  Or Kewanee, Illinois. 

             
She got up to pace.  The last time they were here, Victoria was much more unsure of herself.  Today, she was back to form.  She could see Mercedes sitting at her desk, talking on the phone.  There was no drug dealer sitting in the little chair beside her desk.  Couldn’t she gab with her friends after Victoria had gone.  For Christ’s sake, she was the customer!

             
She ignored the protests of the receptionist and walked straight back to Mercedes’ desk.  She stood next to her, waiting for Mercedes to acknowledge her and cut her phone call short.  Mercedes spun her chair so her back was toward Victoria, and continued her phone call as if Victoria didn’t exist. 

             
Exasperated, she marched back to where Mike was waiting.  He was busy doing the crossword puzzle in the US Weekly magazine.  Victoria was momentarily distracted to notice that he had almost finished the puzzle.  Did he really know the names of Brangelina’s twins?  

             
He looked up and smiled.

             
“All done?” he asked, knowing fully she had not even started.

             
Victoria stamped her foot.  “She’s yakking on the phone.  Probably deciding what she’s going to have for her next meal.”

             
“Me-ow!” Mike purred. 

             
Victoria rolled her eyes.  He was hilarious.  She was surrounded by idiots.  She sat down next to Mike in a huff.  He handed her his magazine, but she turned her shoulder.  She was in a foul mood and didn’t want to get out of it.

             
“Victoria Vernon,” the receptionist called.

             
“It’s about time,” Victoria said to no one as she checked her watch.  She walked over to Mercedes’ desk, ready to rant.

             
Mercedes beat her to it.  “Mrs. Vernon, please sit down.  I have to tell you that if you ever repeat the scene you played her this afternoon, I cannot take you as a client.  That was inappropriate and unacceptable behavior.  We have a very strict protocol here and we can’t tolerate clients breaking it.  Do you understand me?”

             
Mercedes spoke in a quite, professional voice which alarmed Victoria much more than if she had shouted or pounded her fist.  She’s talking to me like I’m an idiot, Victoria thought.  Screw her.

             
“Of course.  I was under the impression that we had an 11:00 appointment,” Victoria said, straightening her back on the vinyl chair as she checked her watch. 

             
“Great, let’s get started, then,” Mercedes wasn’t one to dwell on the infraction.  She opened Victoria’s file and looked up.

             
“Okay, were you able to get any of the statements we discussed?”

             
Victoria pulled a file from her enormous bag.  Mercedes tried to peek inside as she extracted the files.  She took the folder and rifled through the pages.  “Here are our joint accounts, the children’s accounts, Trip’s IRA, my IRA, the trust for the children, Trip’s trust from his father,” she placed pages upon pages across Mercedes’ desk.  She went back to her bottomless purse and pulled out another folder.  “I couldn’t access his mother’s trust as that’s only in his name.  Here are the annuities, the 401K, and an account for housekeeping in Connecticut.  Oh, and here are three different investment accounts, they’re kind of small, I’m not really sure where they go.”