On The Run

Chapter Thirty-Three - "The Joy of Remembrance"

Sarah

Happiness. It comes easy to most. To others, it is as far-fetched as life on Mars.

My mother was one of those who never knew anything but happiness; who even through the pain and tragedy of a life being cut short, never ceased to be happy. I tried to emulate that all my life, and I tried to find the good in everything and everyone, but it was hard.

She made me happy, and so did my father. And I had neither of them. But somehow, even though I went to sleep on November 11th with a heart full of sadness and devastation, for some reason, I woke up on the 12th feeling somewhat happy.

I couldn’t explain it, but for the first time since I’d lost my mother, I felt like she was right there with me; and that was all I needed to put down the glass of bourbon and resolve to speak to my father.

And so, all day I sat in my bed thinking of all the things to tell him and all the things I needed to apologize for. With that hope and those thoughts, I pulled on my three thousand dollar Vivienne Westwood dress, curled my hair loosely and did my make-up with precision.

The fact that my father hadn’t frozen my offshore accounts or my assets was a good enough sign that he still wanted me to be comfortable and satisfied, even though I’d hurt him by leaving, which meant he was still thinking of me. The thought made my heart bubble with joy.

Boston.

“So, we’re all clear on the plan?” I asked aloud as we drove over to the mayor’s house in the rental car.

“You’ll point out my parents, and I’m not to communicate with them until you’ve gotten a feel for them and you say so,” Janelle said in a drone, feigning boredom. I knew it was to mask the nervousness though, she hadn’t said a word the entire trip from New Jersey to Boston.

“Jake and I are going to be acting as reporters from The Daily. We’ll find out if they have any involvement in our case, and then slowly, we’ll slip you into the conversation,” I said to her, “then, after the auction, the mayor’s going to want to talk to Teri in private about our conversation with them. Only then can you slip in and introduce yourself. Do not go and talk to them separately or in private unless we’re nearby. They’re extremely powerful people, Janelle; all it takes is one phone call, and you’ll vanish,” I said firmly.

“What if they actually want me?” she asked quietly.

“Then you have a decision to make. Either way, we’re going right back to your foster parents’ tonight. You have to talk to them and let them know what’s going on, okay?”

She nodded as we arrived at the three-story house with a swarm of elegant cars lined along the front.

“And remember, if anyone asks, you are a representative from the Daily, and you’re writing about the pieces being auctioned off. That’s what the ID I gave you is for – credibility.”

She nodded, silent.

“If it so happens that they’re not happy with your arrival into their lives, just remember, it has nothing to do with you per se, just the complications you might bring to their separate lives. Don’t feel discarded or unworthy, okay?” I said, softly.

She smiled, “I just want to see them. I don’t necessarily want to join their families.”

I gave her a nod, “Okay. Well, let’s go.”

Jake was being rather quiet as we got out and handed the valet the keys.

“Hey. Is everything okay?” I whispered as we headed in, Janelle in tow.