It just didn’t pay to be kidnapped.
Rather than pine and whine any longer, she figured she’d better face her demons.
Her mom showed up in the doorway first, her dad stepping on her heels. Her mother was wearing a tiger print, had new highlights in her chin-length bob, wore snazzy red-framed glasses-and hurled herself at Carolina with a sob, a hug and a fog of Chanel No 19.
“Honey, I’ve missed you so much! I don’t understand why you went off like that! Why you’d ever shut us out! I was so worried and upset! I just don’t understand!”
Then her dad took over, enveloped her in a giant hug with tears in his eyes. “I’m so glad you’re home again, princess. Your mom was terribly upset. Not me. I know you’re a big girl, and can take of yourself. We’re just used to being able to talk to you whenever we want to.”
“I know. And I’m so sorry, both of you.” Actually, Carolina knew they’d been told where she was, and how to contact her in case of an emergency. Her parents just couldn’t conceive of any occasion where they couldn’t immediately reach her. She wasn’t about to get into Maguire and the kidnapping, but they needed some explanations.
And she needed to face them as well.
Wine got poured. The wailing went on for a while. Apple pie slowed it down. So did the presents she’d brought for both of them. Eventually they all sat in the rust-and-brown den-no one ever sat in her mother’s living room; life revolved around the TV. Family pictures dominated the walls, her mom’s angel collection dominated the bookshelves and her father’s latest model took up half the coffee table. All of it was as familiar as her childhood, evoked equal amounts of love and stress.
As did the conversation.
Her father hunched forward at a gesture from her mom, making Carolina guess that they’d choreographed this talk ahead of time. “Honey, your mother and I have been thinking. We think it’s a good idea for us to move in with you. Or, if you’d rather, that you move in with us.”
“Dad, that’s not necessary,” she said quickly.
“We think it is. We understand that you’re grown up, that the last thing a young single woman would normally want is parents looking over her shoulder. But this whole inheritance business has been too much for you.”
“We can protect you,” her mother chimed in. “Take care of things. Your dad could handle the finances, and I could take charge of your place, redecorating or whatever you need. We’ll take the stress off…”
Before this got any hairier, Carolina stood up, opened the satchel she’d brought in. “You two are both right. I wasn’t handling stress well. But actually, one thing I needed to figure out had nothing to do with me. It was about you two. And, Dad, I need to ask you a favor.”
“Anything, princess.”
Carolina pulled out the sheaf of papers. “This is the paperwork for a trust that I created for you and Mom. It’s set up to give you two a monthly discretionary allowance, but there’s a lot of give-and-take in the setup. You might want something bigger now and then-like a car or a trip or something? Then you’d have to figure out how to work that out with taxes and social security and all.”
Before her parents could say anything, Carolina said quickly, “It’s just all too much for me. I needed some expert advice. That’s partly what I’ve been doing for the past two weeks. Getting that advice. Getting a crash course in finances from experts. That wasn’t hard. But it would be hard for me to handle this trust on top of everything else, so I was hoping that between you and Mom-”
“Carolina,” her mother said firmly, “I still feel you need us close by. This whole new lifestyle has put so much pressure on you, and-”
“Ruth Marie.” Her dad had been looking over the papers, had homed in on some of the bottom-line numbers.
“Don’t interrupt me,” her mother started to say, but her dad sank back on the couch and grabbed her mother’s hand to make her sit down with him.
“I’m stunned, honey,” he said. “And of course I’ll take this on. You’re the most wonderful daughter…”
She wasn’t sure Maguire would give her the same heaps of credit. She’d narrowly escaped having her parents live with her. Much as she loved them, it was that kind of suffocation that made her so crazy…weeks ago? Was it really only weeks ago?
It was dark when she left her parents’ place, but she had one more thing to do before going home. The drive to Kalamazoo was a long two hours, but it was a city where she knew no one. It only took a few extra minutes to find an outside U.S. postal box.
She slipped the package in, and finally headed home.
“Sir.”
Maguire woke at the sound of the phone, and glanced, bleary eyed, at the hotel bedside clock. Maybe it was only eleven at night, but he’d been running nonstop for almost a week, had been sleeping like the dead. Naturally he immediately recognized Henry’s voice.
“Okay. Two immediate things, Mr. Cochran. Tommy insisted I call you and tell you that he won a prize for ‘most improved in speech.’”
“Thank you, Henry. That’ll take a reward, I’m thinking, when I get back.”
“That’s why I thought you’d want to know, sir. In case you wanted to contact him tomorrow.”
“And?”
Henry reeled off a number of business issues, none of which really required a call, and then suddenly suffered a dry cough. “A package arrived for you. I opened it, sir.”
“You’re telling me this why?”
“Well, sir, I wouldn’t have opened it if it had been marked Private. Obviously. I was just going through the regular-”
“Tell me what was in it, Henry, before I fall back asleep.”
“A T-shirt, sir.” Another discreet cough. “Gray. Light gray. A nice cotton. With a logo. It says, For the Sexually Gifted.”
Maguire’s eyes startled open. “What!”
“It’s postmarked Kalamazoo, Michigan.”
“I don’t know anyone in Kalamazoo, Michigan.”
“Well, Mr. Cochran, someone in Kalamazoo seems to think quite highly of you. In that one regard. I mean, if they don’t know you, they’re certainly making some interesting assumptions. And if the person does know you, then she seems to feel a unique motivation to applaud your, um-”
“That’s enough, Henry. You’re sure there’s no note?”
“No note. No return address. Just the postmark.”
“Quit laughing, Henry.”
“I’m not laughing, sir. I just couldn’t think of anyone in the universe who would have sent you this. I mean, no offense, sir. It’s not the grade score I was thinking about. It was the humor of it. I don’t know anyone in your circle of people who would have-”
Neither did Maguire. He had many, many acquaintances and business friends and family connections and work and charity people he knew. Most, he had a cordial relationship. Some, more.
None, though, with that kind of irreverent sense of humor.
None. Not a single soul.
It didn’t make sense.
When Carolina opened the door, her sister strode in, handed her a package, started talking and never stopped. “I don’t know who delivered this thing, but you must not have heard them knocking. Isn’t it crazy? And, Caro, why on earth are you still living in this dump?”
Carolina was momentarily stunned at the package-M &M’s in a glass apothecary jar, labeled Tough Pills. She believed in miracles. Always had. But the only person who could conceivably find a way to leave that particular present on her doorstep-well, it was a stunner, that’s all. It made her heart suddenly thump like a jackhammer.
Donna, in the meantime, was shedding leather jacket, shoes and scarf, still talking. “Come on, Carolina. You don’t even have the security you need here. This place is ridiculous for someone with the money you have now.”