Rock Chick 07 Regret (29 page)

Then I saw Ralphie’s eyes come back to me and I didn’t like the look in them.

I looked around the room. Then I
felt
the room.

Something was not right.

My eyes went to the man I didn’t know.

“What’s going on?” I asked, again to everyone but my eyes didn’t leave the man and, I realized belatedly, his eyes had been on me since I walked in.

An unhappy, “oh no what now?” chill slid across my skin and I braced.

Hector materialized close to my side (furthering my sense of foreboding) and I heard him say, “Tom.”

I looked to Hector then back to the man. The man got closer and lifted his chin at Hector showing me they knew each other
then
his gaze slid back to me.

Indy came with him. She was looking at me too. Looking at me funny. Looking at me in a way that made me a little scared.

All of a sudden I had the insane urge to reach out for Hector’s hand like I would have done yesterday or the day before (or, probably, the day before) but I wouldn’t allow myself to do it now.

Those days were over.

Whatever life had to dish out to me next, I was going to handle it on my own. No more leaning on anyone else. It was time for a new
New
Sadie, a Take Charge Sadie.

“I’m Sadie Townsend,” I told him.

“I know who you are,” he said gently and I watched with alarm as his gaze moved to the scar on my cheek, it grew soft and then (no kidding), it grew moist.

“This is my Dad, Tom Savage,” Indy introduced and my eyes went wide.

Oh no.

Were we going to have another Blanca Type Incident?

I mentally prepared for another demonstration of why these people were so darn nice but my preparation wasn’t enough.

Nowhere near.

“You look just like your mother,” Tom Savage said and his six words hit me like six sharp blows and my body jerked with the power of them.

I swallowed, wondering if I heard him right then whispered, “I’m sorry?”

The Rock Chicks and Ralphie were closing in and I felt Hector’s heat hit me as he drew nearer. But I only had eyes for Tom Savage.

“You know my mother?” I asked when he didn’t repeat himself.

“Knew her, yes,” he answered.

I put my newly exposed hand to the counter and held on. It wouldn’t do to collapse in a dead faint. That wouldn’t exactly say Take Charge Sadie.

“It seems, when we were little, we knew each other too,” Indy put in and my eyes moved to her. She was fishing in the back pocket of her jeans and she pulled out a picture, stepped toward me and handed it to me.

I took it and looked down.

In the picture was a little redheaded, blue-eyed girl, maybe two years old, and a baby. The little girl was sitting on a couch with the swaddled baby in her arms. You could tell she was giggling into the camera, pleased as punch to be holding her living doll.

The baby’s head had a shock of ultra-light, golden-cream-strawberry blonde hair.

The little girl was obviously Indy, the baby… me.

“Oh my God,” I breathed, not taking my eyes from the picture. I took one step back then two then ran into something solid. Hector’s hands settled on my shoulders as I stopped retreating and stared at the picture.

Finally, I looked up at Tom. “How…?”

Tom took a step toward me, his eyes moved to Hector and he stopped.

He looked back at me. “Lizzie, your mother, was a friend of my wife, Katherine.”

I blinked, unable to process this because, frankly, it was un-
processable
.

My Mom and Indy’s Mom were friends? How could that be?

“She was?” I asked.

Tom nodded. “Katherine and Kitty Sue, Lee’s Mom, were thick as thieves all their lives. They met Lizzie in high school and she became part of their tribe. They were both bridesmaids at your Mom’s wedding.”

Instantly I felt saliva fill my mouth and I swallowed it down.

This couldn’t be true. It simply couldn’t be true.

Could it?

I didn’t know anything about my mother. I had nothing of her but my memories. My father had removed all traces of her after she left us. No photos, no trinkets, no letters, not a stitch of her clothing. Nothing. We never spoke of her after she left. Not once.

“Mom and Dad are on vacation in Hawaii. They’re coming home on Sunday,” Ally piped in, I came out of my thoughts and I looked at her. She was staring at me too and she didn’t look like feisty Veronica Mars at all. Her look was both gentle and concerned.

It was too much to take in so, confused, I asked, “What?”

“My Mom, Kitty Sue, your Mom’s friend, she’s in Hawaii. We’ve called her and she told us to tell you she’s looking forward to seeing you again when she gets back.”

I was shaking my head, still not understanding, but Ally kept on.

“I guess me and Lee and Hank, my other brother, knew you too.”

“No,” I whispered.

“Yes,” Ally replied and she gave me a hesitant not at all the Ally I kind of knew grin.

I pulled in my lips and before I could pull together my thoughts, Tom came closer and put his hand on my arm.

“Sadie, you were a part of our lives for awhile. Then we lost Katherine –” Tom said and my gaze snapped to him.

“You lost Katherine?” I repeated.

“She died. Cancer. When Indy was five. A few years after that picture was taken,” Tom replied and at that, my eyes sliced to Indy and all of a sudden my body started trembling.

Indy’s Mom died. Tom’s wife died. My Mom’s friend died.

I shook my head, wanting to escape, wanting to run, to hide, to get
the heck
out of there but I didn’t.

Instead, I looked back to Tom. “I’m sorry,” I said softly.

His fingers squeezed my arm. “It was a long time ago,” he responded but I could tell by the look in his eyes that time hadn’t healed this particular wound.

“I’m still sorry,” I told him.

“Thank you,” he replied and dropped his hand. “What I was saying was, once Katherine died, things with your Dad…” He stopped then went on, “See, I’m a cop, so is Malcolm, Ally’s father. It wasn’t… your Mom… with your father bein’… she didn’t feel…” He stopped again, I could tell this was difficult for him because I saw his teeth clench. Then he kept going. “Once Katherine was gone, she didn’t bring you around anymore.”

That’s when it finally hit me. All of it.

Sometime, a long time ago, my Mom had friends. Good friends. People that probably loved her,
loads
. Made her laugh, made her giggle, made her feel special, made her feel safe.

Which meant…

Sometime, a long time ago, I’d been one of them.

Sometime, a long time ago, I’d been the baby of The Nightingale/Savage/Townsend Clan.

Sometime, a long time ago, my Mom lost her friends and I lost my chance to be a good, normal, nice person surrounded by genuine friends, people that truly cared about me.

I lost all that had been their life. All that made them laugh with each other, tease each other, take care of each other.

Heck, Indy had just gotten married! I could have been one of her bridesmaids!

I tried to hold on but I couldn’t help it, I could feel the tears welling in my eyes.

I thought I was used to the loss but, apparently, I wasn’t.

And that
stunk
.

“I hate my father,” I told Tom Savage quietly. Then before I could stop it, my breath hitched (repeatedly) and I hissed, “
I hate him!
”

Hector’s hands disappeared from my shoulders, his arms slid around my chest, his body got closer and I felt his jaw against the side of my head.

Still I tried to gain control (this, by the way, didn’t work and I felt the tears slide down my cheeks).

“Sadie, sugar –” Daisy whispered gently and at her words the Rock Chicks and Ralphie pulled in ever closer.

“I want you to come over for dinner tomorrow,” Tom said. “Indy and
Ally’ll
be there. So will Lee, Hank and Roxie. Hector too. The whole family.”

The whole family. He said, “The whole family.” I’d never had a “whole family”. Not their kind of family.

Well, I guess I did, once, but I lost it before I knew I even had it.

I pulled in my lips. Hector’s jaw left my head and his arms gave me a squeeze.

There was no way I was going to dinner at Tom Savage’s house with all my babyhood friends reunited. There was no way I was going to set myself up for that kind of loss. There was no way I was going to let
any
of this go on any longer than it had to.

The only thing I knew was that I had to devise a plan to get myself safe, safe from the Crazy Balducci Brothers
and
safe from any further emotional turmoil.

Tom must have read my intent on my face because he added, “I have pictures. Of your mother. You could –”

I immediately changed my mind. “I’ll be there.”

Hector gave me another squeeze.

Tom gave me a smile.

Indy threw her hands up and yelled, “Party!”

Ally
laughed with obvious relief on the word, “Righteous.”

I relaxed into Hector’s warmth, looked down at the photo and made my decision.

I’d let myself have this one small gift, a gift, I told myself, that was from my Mom.

Then as soon as I could finagle it, just like my Mom, I was going to disappear.

Chapter Eleven

Hector’s Rose

Sadie

“Sadie, maybe you should come in and talk. I’m not sure this is –” my dead grandmother’s financial manager, Aaron Lockhart, said in my ear.

“Please Aaron, just do it,” I interrupted him.

It was after work, I was in my bedroom on the landline not delaying a minute in putting my newly formed plans in place.

One thing my Mom left me was Aaron Lockhart. He was old as the hills, stooped, had wispy white hairs across his liver-spotted scalp and he still worked full-time because, he told me, when he tried retirement his wife nearly drove him to murder.

Since he liked his work, and his freedom, he got in his car every morning at 8:30 and his driver drove him to his office in the Denver Technical Center (known as DTC). He left work at 5:30, which gave his wife plenty of time to have a couple of martinis and mellow out a bit before he got home (he told me this too).

Aaron and I had never been close – my father didn’t like him and wouldn’t allow it – but in an ironclad agreement devised by my dead (but clearly, while she was alive, shrewd) grandmother when she set up my trust, he was appointed to manage my trust fund which had not been touchable until I was twenty-one. He also managed the income derived from the flat in London I inherited which had been rented out since around the time of the Blitz to an old lady named Mrs.
Burnsley
and a small villa on Crete which was hired out to tourists. I’d never been to either of these properties, my father also wouldn’t allow that, but I’d seen pictures. The flat was close to Covent Garden. The villa was in a small fishing village by the sea.

When I opened Art, I asked Aaron to help me to keep it clean, away from my father and entirely law-abiding, and he did.

Aaron was one of the few people I knew who, regardless of his age, was not frightened of going head-to-head with my father. I admired him, totally trusted him and I’d always liked him but, as ever, I’d never let it show.

I’d just asked him to find out Mrs.
Burnsley’s
plans for her future in my flat as well as the schedule of occupancy on the villa in Crete. One or the other of them might well be my next destination or a future one as the case may be.