Payback Page 5

  Another text message from Todd. Call me, I miss you.

  Ignoring him, she returned her sister’s call.

  Cassie was a recovering alcoholic with good intentions but frequent relapses. She was so exasperating, Marta sometimes wanted to throttle her, but she also had a big heart and a puppy-like naiveté that made it impossible to stay angry. Marta loved her younger sister, and hadn’t given up hope that she would eventually find her footing.

  “Hi, Cassie. What’s up?”

  “I needed an excuse to call you?”

  “No, of course not.” But Cassie never called without a reason. Marta was the one who initiated calls just to touch base.

  “I wanted to hear about your trip.”

  “What trip?”

  “To Minneapolis. Wasn’t there a business thing you had there?”

  “Right.” Why did everything have to remind her of Todd? “Thanks for the birthday text, by the way.”

  “So did you take my advice and have some fun?”

  “It was cold and snowy, and boring as hell.”

  “You didn’t do anything?”

  “Nothing exciting.” Nothing Marta would admit to.

  Cassie hesitated. “Sorry to hear that.”

  “Yeah. So how are you?”

  “I’ve been better.”

  “What’s the matter? Are you ill?” Marta worried that someday Cassie would call with truly bad news, the way their mother had only a few years earlier when she’d announced she had stage four cancer.

  “I was sick but I’m better now.”

  “Was it the flu?”

  “Probably. I felt like shit.” Cassie paused for the telltale inhalation of a cigarette. “I missed a few days of work.”

  “But you’re better now, right?”

  “Yeah, but the thing is, the fuckers fired me. I mean, can I help it if I get sick?”

  In Cassie’s case, she probably could. Besides, if Marta had to guess, she’d say Cassie’s illness, whatever it had been, somehow involved alcohol.

  “So you’re out of a job?” Marta bit her tongue and didn’t add again. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m too bummed to even think about it yet. I was hoping you could spare a little cash, you know, just to tide me over for a bit.”

  Déjà vu all over again, Marta thought. “What about unemployment insurance?”

  “It wasn’t that kind of job!”

  No, of course not. “How much do you need?”

  “A thousand would do, I think.”

  “A thousand?” This was déjà vu doubled. In the past Marta had sometimes given her sister a month’s rent, or maybe a couple of hundred bucks for groceries. “I don’t have a thousand dollars to spare. Why so much this time?”

  “I’ve got expenses. The power company is threatening to turn off my service if I don’t pay up.”

  Marta’s irritation boiled to the surface. “You were working until recently. Why didn’t you pay your utilities?”

  “Don’t go getting all high and mighty with me. It’s not my fault things don’t work out. You always get lucky. Me, it’s like I’ve got a black cloud over my head.”

  How many times had they had this argument? Marta’s head hurt just thinking about it. She’d tried to make Cassie understand that people made their own luck. She’d tried to help her see that her lifestyle and life choices weren’t conducive to success. But it was a losing battle.

  “You’ve got a husband, a job, a nice house,” Cassie whined. “You’ve got it made. I don’t see why you can’t help me out a little.” Another drag on the cigarette. “Besides, you got Momma’s money.”

  “I’ve told you, there isn’t any money. What little there was, I spent on her medical bills.”

  “You can’t have spent it all.”

  “Well I did. And then some.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have. It wasn’t yours, it belonged to both of us.”

  Marta had had enough. “It didn’t belong to either of us. It was Momma’s money.”

  “What am I going to do?” Cassie sounded suddenly so broken and discouraged that Marta’s anger faded.

  “You need to get your life in order, Cassie. You need a job and you need to keep it. You need a budget. And maybe you need to start going to AA meetings again.”

  “Maybe what I need is a sister who doesn’t think she’s so perfect!”

  Marta relented. “I’ll try to send you something.” But Cassie had already hung up.

  Marta stared at her phone feeling worn down and unappreciated. She was tempted to return Todd’s call, but she resisted. Unlike her sister, Marta tried to do the right thing. Or had, until the trip to Minneapolis.

  She sent Todd a text instead.

  Thank you for the flowers, but this needs to stop. Please don’t contact me again.

  She hesitated, then closed her heart to regret and hit send.

  Chapter 9

  Marta was at her desk Wednesday morning, working on a mailer for one of her favorite clients, the Sterling Humane Society. She loved animals and was friends with the woman who ran the shelter, so it should have been a job she could put her heart into. But she was having a tough time focusing.

  After the uneasy homecoming, things had been fairly smooth at home. Jamie kept her eye-rolling and theatric huffing to a minimum. Gordon was upbeat about working on the revisions for his paper.

  And there hadn’t been a single text or email or phone call from Todd.

  That was good, wasn’t it? Of course it was. Now she could relax and put the whole episode of Minneapolis behind her.

  So why did she feel so lost?

  Marta stared at the computer screen for another fifteen minutes, then finally gave up and logged off. She had a meeting in Macon that afternoon with Youth In Transition, a new client. It was important she be clear-headed.

  “I’m going to head out,” she told Carol. “I’ll stop by the printer and pick up the flyers for Mountain Camp on the way to my meeting.”

  “Great. I know Dan is eager to get going.”

  “I’m still skeptical about a winter outdoor camp in Vermont.”

  Carol chuckled. “It’s not for the likes of us.”

  “That’s for sure. I’m glad we convinced Dan of that.” He’d been eager for them to experience a week in the wilderness firsthand in order to better present the camp to would-be participants. They’d convinced him the adventure would not enthrall them the way he hoped.

  Marta grabbed her coat and the folder with her notes for the upcoming meeting, then headed out. She was almost to her car when out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a familiar-looking man across the green.

  Todd?

  She turned for a closer look. He was too far away for her to be sure, but he did have the same lean build and sandy brown hair. And he was about the right age, but a lot of men fit that description. Besides, what would Todd be doing in Sterling?

  Marta had only seconds to study him further before the man turned the corner and was gone. No, she decided, not Todd. Just another case of her overactive imagination. Like yesterday when she’d thought she’d seen him in the grocery parking lot, only to discover, on closer inspection, that the man she saw had a darker complexion and was a bit heavier.

  Was it wishful thinking? Had she regressed to the level of a lovesick teenager, seeing Todd everywhere she looked? Such silliness. She didn’t even want to see him. Really, she didn’t. Yes, there was a hollow space inside her, but it wasn’t a hollow Todd could fill.

  She had to get her head straight. She had to stop thinking about him. But the brief glimpse of the man who might have been Todd had unsettled her. She trudged across the street to The Daily Joe for coffee to drink in the car.

  The shop was small, with a counter by the window and two tiny tables. More a place to grab an order to go than to hang out. Marta missed the bustling and packed coffee shops she’d known in Boston.

  Donna, the barista, greeted her warmly. “Your usual
latte?”

  “Yes, thanks.” Marta eyed the pastries but for once, her better sense prevailed. “How’s your family?”

  “Good. All except my brother, of course. With him, it never is.”

  “I know the feeling. My sister lost her job again.”

  Donna shook her head. “Siblings. You can’t turn them away even when you want to.”

  “How true.” Marta still hadn’t told Gordon about the money she’d sent Cassie. It was less than her sister had asked for, but in the end, sending her something was easier than not doing so. And she worried about Cassie.

  “Now that daughter of yours,” Donna said. “She’s another story.”

  “Jamie tries my patience at times, too.”

  “But she’s got spunk. She’s not like those other girls who come in here, all giggles and no brain.” Donna handed Marta her coffee. “You don’t have to worry about Jamie.”

  Marta laughed. “I’ll try to remember that.”

  *****

  Marta’s discussion with the Youth In Transition board went well, and she left the meeting with a smile on her face. They’d been unanimous in their support for the approach Marta outlined, as well as the specifics she’d suggested in terms of outreach. She was always nervous with new clients, but they were such an enthusiastic group she’d actually enjoyed herself.

  In preparing, she’d talked to teens in foster care—kids who’d never known a real family and who had no private resources—and she’d seen firsthand what happened the day they turned eighteen. The existing support system, such as it was, vanished, and they were thrown out into the world to fend for themselves. How could you find a place to live without first and last months’ rent? How could you support yourself, no matter how hard you worked, starting from nothing? Youth In Transition was working to provide transitional support for those teens who had aged out of the traditional system. They needed sponsors and landlords and businesses willing to work with them. That’s where C&M Advantage came in. She and Carol could help them tell their story in a way that would elicit support.

  Marta was still going over a few of the finer points in her mind as she walked the block and a half to her car. She’d opened the door and set the project file on the back seat when she heard someone come up behind her.

  She straightened, hitting her head on the car roof, and yelped. Turning around, she found herself face to face with Todd.

  He smiled apologetically. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “How could I not be startled with you sneaking up on me like that?”

  “I wasn’t sneaking up. I saw you walking down the street and I wanted to say hello.”

  Marta’s heart raced. She couldn’t tell if it was the mere fact of being surprised, or because it was Todd who’d surprised her. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m here on business. What about you?”

  “Business also.”

  “Serendipity.” He rubbed his hands together against the chill in the air. “Come on, it’s cold out here. Let’s grab a cup of coffee and catch up.”

  Catch up? What could they possibly have to catch up with? They had nothing in common but a one-night stand.

  “I need to get back to the office,” she said, not as convincingly as she intended. Could it really be coincidence?

  “Can’t you spare half an hour? It’s so great running into you.”

  Todd was smiling his trademark slightly off-center smile. He looked good, better than she remembered. The familiar scent of his aftershave triggered a memory of their night together that nearly rocked Marta off her feet.

  “There’s a place only a block from here,” he said. “Local, not one of those cookie-cutter chains.”

  She shouldn’t. Absolutely not. What she should do is get into her car and drive away as quickly as possible.

  But Todd had a way of fixing his eyes on her that made him hard to resist. And what was one cup of coffee in the middle of the afternoon?

  As if reading her mind, he added, “It’s just coffee.”

  She glanced up the street to check that no one from the meeting was watching, then relented. “Okay. But I can’t stay long.”

  “Great.” He put a hand on her elbow and nodded to the right. “It’s just around the corner and up the street a bit.”

  Todd did most of the talking as they walked, keeping up a steady monologue about Macon’s historic homes and tidbits of the area’s history.

  “You come here often, then?” Marta asked.

  “Often enough.” He took her elbow again to guide her. “Here we are. Why don’t you grab a table while I get our order. What would you like?”

  “Just coffee,” she said. “Black.” She found an empty table and sat down.

  The coffeehouse was warm and cozy, and smelled deliciously of rich, freshly roasted coffee and buttery pastries. Like the coffeehouses she’d loved in Boston. Also like Boston, the place was crowded, and most of the patrons tapped away at laptops and notebooks.

  Todd returned with two steaming mugs and a plate laden with a scone, assorted nut breads, a very large cinnamon roll, and a lemon tart.

  “I wasn’t sure what you’d want,” he said, sliding into the chair next to hers.

  “What did you do, get one of everything?”

  He grinned. “Not quite, but close.”

  Marta couldn’t have eaten, even if she’d been hungry. She’d expected Todd to sit across the table from her, not so close that his thigh brushed hers.

  “Here’s to us,” Todd said, raising his mug in a toast.

  Marta gripped her mug and kept it firmly on the table. “There is no us.”

  “You and me, we’re here having coffee, aren’t we? The two of us.” He took a slow sip, regarding her over the rim of his mug. “Did you like the flowers?”

  “Yes. I mean no, no I didn’t.” Marta shook her head and leaned away. “I don’t want you sending me flowers.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” Her voice rose, causing the man at a nearby table to look their direction. She dropped the volume. The last thing she wanted was someone eavesdropping. “Because I’m married,” she explained, dropping her voice further on the last word. “Why can’t you understand that what happened was an aberration?”

  “Did you ever stop to think that maybe it’s your life that’s the aberration, and that the woman in Minneapolis was the real you?”

  She shook her head. “The real me is a wife and mother who happens, also, to have at least several years on you.”

  Todd leaned back in his chair and turned, studying her. “You’re an amazing woman, you know that? No, of course you don’t. You have no idea. Maybe that’s part of what I find so attractive about you.”

  Marta felt a galvanizing tingle down her spine. Amazing? When was the last time anyone had called her amazing? Ever? “Please,” she said. “I told you—”

  “I know what you told me, but I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”

  “I’m sorry if I misled you. That wasn’t my intention.”

  “I understand that.” He rocked forward again and began tracing circles on the tabletop with his fingers. “I guess maybe I misled you, too.”

  “How so? Don’t tell me you’re married?”

  “No.” He paused. “My wife died three years ago.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Marta felt a rush of sympathy. “How did she die? Or would you prefer not to talk about it?”

  “It’s painful.”

  “Of course it is. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “No, I want you to understand.”

  Marta waited for him to continue.

  “She was murdered,” Todd said finally. “Right in front of me.” His voice caught and he grew still. “We’d gone out to dinner and were walking back to the car. I heard what sounded like an explosion, and when I turned to look at her, she was already crumpled on the ground. At first I thought maybe she’d tripped and fallen, but then I saw the blood. Just a little at
first, hard to see in the dark. And then, suddenly, lots of it. Her neck, her chest—”

  “Oh, my God!”

  “She died in my arms. I wasn’t able to save her.”

  Marta felt the heat of Todd’s grief. “How terrible. Did they find who did it?”

  “A lowlife punk. It was part of a gang dispute. A case of mistaken identity.”

  “They thought your wife was someone else?”

  He dropped his head to his hands. “They thought I was someone else. They were aiming for me.”

  “Oh, Todd. What a tragedy.”

  He nodded and his chin quivered. “It was awful. I’ve been dead inside ever since. People said to give it time, that I’d be able to move on at some point, but I knew they were wrong. My life was over. I was an empty shell.”

  Marta felt her throat tighten. “I can only imagine how terrible it was for you.”

  He took a breath and looked up. “Then I met you. You were fresh and funny. You made me feel alive again.”

  “I what?” An amazing woman. And now, fresh and funny. Heady stuff. But oddly disquieting, too.

  “I know it sounds crazy,” he added, “but I’m already falling in love with you.”

  “You don’t even know me,” she told him softly.

  “I know enough to know I want to know more.”

  “You’re a terrific guy, Todd. Good-looking, kind, smart. There must be lots of women who would welcome your attention.”

  “But they aren’t you.”

  “This is—”

  ”I can’t lose you, Marta.”

  What had she done? “I’m not yours to lose,” she said. “I’m married. Why is that so hard for you to understand?”

  He touched her hand. “I heard how you talked about your husband. You can’t honestly prefer him to me.”

  Marta pulled her hand away and sat back. “What? I hardly mentioned him.”

  Todd smiled. “I’m sure he’s a nice guy and all, but come on, you can’t really love him.”

  “I do.” The vehemence in her voice caught her by surprise.

  “I don’t believe that. I know what you were like with me the other night.”

  “That was . . . it was a mistake.”

  “It didn’t feel like a mistake.”