Page 55 of Hell Bent (Portland Devils #5)
A LINK IN THE CHAIN
Sebastian
Alix didn’t cry, and neither did Elise, because these were two formidable women, no matter how casual Alix tried to be.
There was a hug, though, when they stood together in the tiny floor space—it really was a small trailer—after which her mother held Alix’s head in her two hands, looked into her face, and said, “I’m still going to worry. I’m still going to ask.”
“I know,” Alix said. “And I’m going to try to meet that with some calm next time, OK? We’ll have a reboot. It could be imperfect, but I’m going to try. Starting now. How are you? How’s Dad?”
“We miss you,” Elise said simply, and Alix said, “I’m sorry. I miss you too.”
“But you won’t come home,” Elise said.
“I think,” Alix said, “that I am home.” Which was a jolt. Good or bad, I couldn’t tell. She went on, though, “When you were my age, you’d already had me. Home was where you and Dad were, right?”
“That’s different,” Elise said.
“No,” Alix said, “I don’t think so. I lived in your house, then I lived in Grandpa and Oma’s yard until I moved in with Ned. I’ve never really been on my own. Home has to be where I am. My life has to be mine.”
Elise said, “When you were two, you started refusing to let us hold your hand.”
“I did?”
“You most certainly did. I ended up buying you one of those child harnesses with a leash, because I was so afraid you’d run ahead and fall down, or worse.
When I first put it on you, you sat down on the floor and refused to go anywhere.
Oma suggested we sew bells on it, and then you’d wear it, because you liked the jingle. ”
“Sounds like me,” Alix said.
“I should have known then,” Elise said. “I’ve never been a slow learner.”
Alix smiled, and now, she put her arms around her mother. “Except in this,” she told her. “But maybe we’re making progress.”
A discreet clearing of Elise’s throat, and her voice sounded tight when she said, “I hope so. And I nearly forgot that I brought you your laptop, your passport, and a birthday present.”
“Oh, boy,” Alix said. “At least it can’t be a new BMW. That’s awkward, that I sold your present. I bought a really nice truck, though. A Ford F-150 V6 with a 3.5-liter engine and the Max Trailer Tow package.”
“I don’t know what any of that means,” her mother said.
“It means I could tow a heavier trailer,” Alix said. “Except that I love this one.”
“I don’t see how you can love a truck,” Elise said. “Or this trailer.”
Alix smiled. “I know you don’t. I’m wired differently, I guess.
I’m a cuckoo in the nest, because my favorite possessions are always the dumbest things.
The red stapler I bought the day before classes started at Stanford, with the school logo on it, and my graphing calculator that got me through school, both of which I sure hope Ned gave back. And my trailer.”
Elise said, “You had a blankie as a baby. Do you remember that?”
“Yes,” Alix said. “It was pink. It fell apart.”
“Because you took it everywhere, and I had to wash it too many times.”
“I still had a ragged little piece of it in kindergarten, though,” Alix said. “I put it in my backpack the first morning. You told me I couldn’t bring it to school, but I did anyway.”
“You said that you would leave it in the backpack,” Elise said, her smile misty now.
“You said, ‘I will know it’s there. I will have the picture of it in my head.’ So I let you take it.
You were loyal, that’s what I thought then.
You didn’t love many people, but the ones you did love?
You were fierce. You told me I was—” She stopped.
“The best mom in the world,” Alix said, her voice a little choked. “I seem to have forgotten that, sometime in the teenage years. I’m sorry.”
“We’ve talked past each other,” Elise said. “I train new associates not to do that, and there I’ve been, doing it myself. Well.” She stepped back, touched her hair, probably to ensure it was still neat, and said, “I’d better give you your birthday present, then go find a hotel.”
“You can always stay here,” Alix said. “As I’ll be at Sebastian’s, then driving straight to work.”
“Thank you,” her mother said drily, “but I’ll take my chances at the Ritz-Carlton.”
“Ha,” Alix said. “So you bought me a present?”
“I didn’t precisely buy it,” her mother said. “I brought it.”
“So not a puppy, then,” Alix said. “That was what I always asked for,” she told me, then told her mother, “ Sebastian has a great dog. I’m puppy-adjacent now, anyway.”
“Well, good,” Elise said faintly, then plucked something from Alix’s sweater and held it up. “I take it this is one of the benefits.”
“Well, yes,” Alix said, “that’s a dog hair. Golden Retrievers shed. Good thing I don’t have to dress up much.”
“Right,” her mother said, and picked up her purse from the banquette. It was made of quilted leather with a chain strap, and I was willing to bet that Elise wasn’t the only princess who had one. She took a faded purple velvet pouch out of it and handed it to Alix. “Happy Birthday.”
Alix opened it. And stared. Then said, “They’re not supposed to be mine, though. I gave them back to Oma to give to you.”
“I thought about it,” her mother said, “and decided it was the right time. You’re thirty.”
“I’m supposed to get them when I marry, though,” Alix said. I couldn’t see what was in the pouch, but I was starting to get an idea. “And they’re too precious. It’s a trailer. What if they’re stolen?”
“First,” Elise said, “as you’ve told me you’ll probably wait ten years to get married, I’d say we’d better break that tradition. And you put them into your box at the bank, of course.”
“Mother,” Alix said, “I do not have a box at the bank.”
“Oh. Of course. Well …” Elise hesitated.
I said, “I have a safe.”
“What?” Alix stared at me. “You do? Why?”
I had to laugh. “Same reason most people do, I imagine. I have things I’d rather lock up.”
“Oh,” she said. “I always forgot how much money you make.” And when I laughed some more, she added, “That’s a good thing. Haven’t you figured out yet that I don’t always like rich people? ”
I couldn’t stop grinning. “I have. But if it doesn’t compromise your principles too much, you’re still free to put your present in my safe. What is it, by the way?”
Her mother said, “Maybe we should have a private chat.” Not to me. To Alix.
“Why?” she asked. “Because Sebastian’s going to steal my earrings? Mother. He is not going to steal them. He makes …” She turned to me. “I forget.”
“One point nine this year,” I said. “As it’s a matter of public record, I’m sharing it. No other woman would have forgotten that, though. Just saying.”
“And he’s likely to renegotiate his contract after this season,” Alix told her mother. “Because he’s an amazing kicker.”
“An amazing …” Elise said, and faltered.
“Kicker,” Alix said. “So you see? I found a guy with a physical job who’s also rich. Who knew?”
I said, “I thought you didn’t like that I was … well, not rich, exactly, but …”
“I don’t,” she said. “But my mother will. And don’t be stupid. Of course you’re rich. Oh. This is the present.”
She tipped them out of the pouch so I could see them, and …
. Whoa. Those were some earrings. I didn’t ask, “Are they real?” because I already knew.
They were part of the parure, and they were spectacular.
The pear-shaped emeralds were a good half-inch long, with a clarity and color that dazzled you, and they were surrounded by diamonds.
They also hung from diamonds, and none of those diamonds was one bit small.
The ones on the earlobe were half a carat at least, set in a flower pattern around yet another not-small emerald.
I said, “I may have to up my insurance policy.”
“I should think so,” Elise said a little stiffly.
“I still think a box at the bank would be better. As you won’t speak to me privately, Alix, I need to be blunt.
Having money is no guarantee of honesty.
I can add you as the jewelry wearer on my insurance policy, but that doesn’t get them back.
They’re not replaceable. Surely you know that. ”
Alix said, “I trust Sebastian.” With that stubborn set to her chin again. Well, that détente hadn’t lasted long.
Her mother sighed. “I didn’t say?—”
I said, “You don’t have to trust me, or not for long.
Get one of those boxes at the bank as soon as you can, and put them in there.
Meanwhile, you can put them in my safe. Security building,” he told my mother.
“Biometric sensors on the doors. And I think I can refrain from theft for a week or two.”
“I work sixty hours a week,” Alix said. “Not bankers’ hours.”
“If you’d just get your degree—” her mother said.
Alix put both hands on the side of her head, because she didn’t have a ponytail to grab tonight, and said, “Aaarrrrgh. No. Stop.”
Her mother said, “Fine,” her mouth tight now. “I thought you’d want to have them. It was meant to be a gesture. If they’re too much trouble, I’ll take them back and give them to you later.”
“Mother,” Alix said. “I want them. I do. This means—it means the world to me, that you see me as an adult now, as my own woman now, not just when I get married. If ever,” she had to throw in there. “And I love them. I don’t know where I’ll wear them, but?—”
“Oh,” I said, “I think we can find a place for you to wear them.”
Elise said, “Excuse me? Where would that be?” Like she imagined pro football players only went … bowling. Bass fishing. Possibly to NASCAR races.
I said, “She could have worn them tonight, for example.”
“With a leather skirt,” Elise said flatly .
“Well, yes,” I said. “Sorry, but NFL players make good money, and they tend to give good jewelry, too. There was some serious bling knocking around the place tonight. But if that isn’t high-end enough, how about awards banquets? Women wear legit gowns to those.”
“Are you going to be awarded something?” Elise asked. Extremely dubiously.
I laughed. “I could. You never know. Alix would be a knockout in a sort of chocolate-brown dress. Or bronze. Those earrings with a bronze dress, on Alix? That’d turn some heads.”
Alix said, “You two are dressing me like a paper doll. Hello? I wear work pants!”
“And I’ve seen you four times in something that knocks me out,” I said. “I don’t think you hate dressing up at all. I think you hate being told how to dress up.”
She muttered, “Stop looking in my brain like that,” and I laughed.
She went on, “You’re not taking these back, Mother.
I promise to take excellent care of them, and to love them.
” A pause. “Just like I love Oma, and I love you. I know what they mean. I understand that they’re a link in the chain. ” Of princesses, that would be.
“Then,” Elise said, “I’ll leave them with you.” Of course, she had to add, “And hope for the best.”