A Pinch of Salt

  “Of course, thank you, I really appreciate your time,” Julie said softly, because, apparently, I’d gone mute.

  “Also, normally, Ms. Baker would have her own counsel. Since that is not the case today, I will reiterate that I am Mr. Heeler’s lawyer, and am only here in the best interest of my client.”

  “Thank you,” I managed to croak out, finally turning to Julie and asking, “What is this about?”

  Julie twirled the ring on her middle finger nervously, then took a deep breath and brought her gaze to mine.

  “I’d like my stuff,” she said, and I blinked.

  “What?” I asked.

  That was the last thing in the world I’d been expecting her to say.

  “My things . . . clothes, shoes, jewelry. The box of mementos from high school and when I was little. I’d like to set aside a time to box up and take my things, a time when you and Kayla aren’t around.”

  My mouth was gaping like a fish as I stared at her.

  “What?” she asked defensively. “It’s my stuff, and I should be able to have it if I want.”

  “You came to my lawyer’s office so that you could get your clothes?” I asked, my tone bordering on mean, but I couldn’t help it, I was angry.

  “Well, yeah. I didn’t want to put my mom in the middle of it by asking her to ask you, and I didn’t think showing up at the house unannounced was a good idea. This seemed like the safest way.”

  “The safest way?” I practically shouted. “Did you ever think of, I don’t know, calling me?”

  “I didn’t think that was a good idea, and you did, do, seem pretty angry, so . . .”

  “Oh, don’t you pull that shit on me. Angry? You’re damn right I’m angry, but you know I’ve never given you a reason to not feel safe around me, and although you’re right, I’d rather you not call my phone, it makes more sense than having me called down to my lawyer’s office for something that could have taken minutes to set up.”

  I took a deep breath and shook my head.

  “I could give two shits about your things. What I’m so angry about, is that you’re more worried about some fucking shoes and mementos, than your own daughter . . .”

  “Jackson,” Mr. Hurley warned, and I took another deep breath before muttering, “Sorry.”

  “Yes, we can set up a time for you to come pack up and take your things, and no, Kayla certainly won’t be there. But I will be. There’s no way you’re going into my home without me being present.”

  “Okay,” Julie said softly.

  I rose quickly and added, “Now, if that’s all, I need to get back to my daughter. Text me to set up a time to get your things.” Then I turned my attention to Mr. Hurley and said, “I’m sorry for wasting your time. Thanks for your patience.”

  Then I got the hell out of there.

  Millie

  WE’D FINISHED EATING IN SILENCE after Jackson left, my Beef and Broccoli tasteless, so I barely ate at all.

  After we cleaned up, I took Kayla into the back. I gave her a brief tour, making sure she knew where the bathroom was, showing her our office, the kitchen, and the different walk-ins. I thought briefly about taking her up into my apartment, so she could hang out and watch TV or something, then figured it was too far and maybe for my first time watching her, I should keep her close.

  So, we were in the kitchen and I was explaining the flowers I was making, the type of cake it would go on, and telling Kayla about the party the next day. If there was ever a person who looked or acted more bored, I’d never met them. Still, I kept trying.

  “You can make flowers with frosting, fondant, gum paste . . .”

  “He’s never going to fall in love with you, or marry you, you know,” Kayla broke in, her tone full of anger.

  I looked up from what I was doing, put my tools down, and started as gently as I could, “Kayla . . .”

  “No, this is stupid. My dad loved my mom, and she left us, she’s never coming back. So now, he has me, and we’re doing just fine. We were happy and everything until you showed up. Now you think you can take him away, but you can’t. He told me, I’ll always be his number one girl . . . not you.”

  My stomach clenched painfully as the anger on Kayla’s face turned to worry and sadness.

  “Oh, honey, I’m not trying to take your place, or your mother’s. I really like your father, and we’re having a great time getting to know each other, that’s all it is right now. No one has said anything about marriage or anything, so you don’t need to get worked up about that. Not now, let’s just get to know each other, okay? I think that would really make your dad happy.”

  For some reason, my words brought the anger back. In fact, Kayla looked so angry, with her red face and clenched fists, that it made me worried for her.

  “You don’t know what makes him happy,” she spat.

  I lifted up my hands and spoke softly, hoping to calm her down.

  “You’re right, let’s just take a break, maybe go in the back and have some water.”

  “I don’t want to go anywhere with you. I don’t want you coming to my house for tacos, I don’t want to come here to your stupid kitchen to watch you make stupid food. I want you to leave us alone!” she shouted, and before I knew her intentions, she rushed to my counter, lifted her arm, and swept all of my flowers onto the floor. “I hate you.”

  My heart was pounding and my hands were sweating, and I felt utter despair as I looked at all of my hard work in a crumbled heap on the ground.

  “Go back to my office and wait for me there. I’ll come back when we’ve both calmed down,” I managed to say through my teeth. When it looked like Kayla might argue, I said more sternly, “Now!”

  Kayla huffed in response, but followed my directions and stomped off toward my office. After a few moments, I heard the door slam, then braced myself against the counter with my hands.

  I tried breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth, but it didn’t work. My eyes filled with tears anyway as I thought about the confrontation we just had, then about how long it was going to take to redo all of the work I’d already completed.

  It’s going to be a long night.

  I used my sleeve to wipe the tears from my cheeks, then went to the refrigerator and pulled out two waters.

  You can do this . . . you know what she’s going through and can put yourself in her place. She’s hurting and took it out on you, but you’re a grown woman, you can take it.

  Once I was done with my mental pep talk, I squared my shoulders and went to the office. Opening the door, I held the waters in front of me, like a peace offering, then faltered when I saw that Kayla wasn’t there.

  I set the waters down on Dru’s desk and did a quick search of the room, looking under all the desks and in the closet.

  Nothing.

  I started calling out, “Kayla,” as I left the office and searched all of the walk-ins, the bathroom, the kitchen, and the storefront.

  When I didn’t see her and she didn’t answer, I ran up the stairs to the apartment level and tried all of our doors. They were all locked, so I knew she couldn’t have gotten in. Panic started setting in as I whirled in the hallway and ran back down the stairs.

  I did another lap around the downstairs, hoping like hell Kayla was hiding from me, but when she didn’t come out and didn’t call out, I grabbed my phone and dialed Jackson.

  “You have reached the voicemail of Jackson Heeler,” the automation said after a few rings, his voice supplying his name.

  I waited for the beep and said, “Call me as soon as you get this.”

  I pressed end, cursing under my breath as I retraced her steps from the mess in the kitchen, down the back hall, and to our office. That’s when my eyes caught on the door at the end of the hallway.

  The back exit.

  I rushed to the door, pushing it open so hard it slammed against the wall as I looked out over the back parking lot, only to find it empty.

  She’s gone.

  Ja
ckson

  THERE WAS A WAR OF motions happening within me. A fight between annoyance and relief.

  It was annoying that Julie had reentered my life only to gather her things, but a total relief that she wasn’t contesting the divorce and it was still going through on schedule. I needed that part of my life to be in the past, needed to move forward, needed to be able to focus on the fall with Millie.

  So, I was cruising down Main Street, feeling pretty good, even if I did have another meeting with Julie looming.

  I pulled up to the curb in front of Three Sisters and was hopping out of the truck, eager to get back inside and see my girls, when Millie came rushing around from the back of the building, crying and visibly shaking as she called out for Kayla.

  My heart leapt out of my chest as fear coursed through me.

  “Millie!” I shouted, jogging over to her on the sidewalk.

  Her head was turning quickly from side to side as she searched the street, and she was so caught up in her panic that my return didn’t immediately register.

  When I was almost to her, I called her name again, then reached out and touched her shoulder. “What’s going on?” I asked. “Where’s Kayla?”

  “I don’t know . . .” Millie cried, her head still swinging back and forth, obviously out of her mind with worry, which was really freaking me out. “She got mad, threw my flowers, and we fought . . . I don’t know what makes you happy, I can’t take her place . . . I told her to go cool down, but she left.” I understood the gist of what she was saying, but not all of it. “I went to take her a water and she was gone . . . just gone.”

  “She couldn’t have gone far,” I began, adrenaline rushing through me as I thought of all the possible terrors my daughter could be facing. “You checked the whole place, upstairs and down?” Millie nodded as she still frantically searched the streets. “What about businesses, have you asked any of them?”

  “Not yet, I just came outside when I realized that she left. Then, you were here.”

  “Okay,” I said, thinking at least Kayla hadn’t been gone long. “Let’s split up and check the stores. You go down this way and I’ll cross the street.”

  Millie took off before I’d even finished my sentence, so I started to run across the street, when I heard someone shout my name.

  “Jackson.”

  My head whipped in the direction of the sound, and I saw Jericho standing outside Prime Beef, waving me over.

  “Kayla’s here!” he shouted, and I practically tripped over my feet with relief.

  I turned to call out to Millie, but saw her standing still on the sidewalk, tears streaming down her face as she watched us.

  “I tried to call you, but your phone kept going straight to voicemail,” Jericho was saying as I got closer. “It just hit me that she was probably coming from your girl’s place, so I was coming over to see if you were there. She’s fine, I got her settled in before coming out to find you. I hope you weren’t too worried.”

  “Thanks, man, I turned my phone to silent when I was with my lawyer, and forgot to turn it back.”

  I turned back to see if Millie was joining us, but found the street empty. I hoped she was okay, but seeing how distraught she’d been, I figured she needed a minute.

  “Can you take me to her?” I asked, thinking I’d grab her then we’d go back to check on Millie, and Kayla would have a lot of apologizing to do.

  “Yeah,” Jericho said, clapping me on the back before leading me into his restaurant, through the dining room and into the kitchen.

  My gaze took in the chaos, before landing on my daughter set up in the back.

  They’d pulled up a barstool, given her a piece of cake and glass of milk. Her head was down as she drew on the paper Jericho had given her, so she didn’t see me approach. I felt a quick rush of relief that she was safe and sound, followed by a flash of anger as I remembered that panic on Millie’s face.

  She’d thought my daughter was in danger, and the reality that Kayla was sitting here like she was having the time of her life made me angrier with her than I’d ever been.

  “Kayla.”

  My tone had Kayla jumping in her seat, and she turned to me with a smile and a, “Hi, Daddy,” before she registered the look on my face and the smile fell.

  “Get up,” I ordered, and I saw her gaze swing to Jericho before she slid off the stool and walked slowly toward me. I turned to Jericho and said, “Thanks for looking out for her. I’m sorry if she was in the way.”

  “Not at all,” my buddy replied. “I’m here for you.”

  I nodded, then pointed toward the door and told Kayla, “Go.”

  I walked behind her, trying to calm down before I said something that I’d regret, but I was so angry and disappointed in her, and those were emotions I’d never felt for my daughter before. Not on that level.

  Once we got outside and I looked around to make sure we didn’t have an audience, I turned to Kayla with a frown.

  “I am beyond disappointed in you, young lady. You know better than to run off like that, you’re nine years old, not four.” I watched Kayla’s shoulders sag and fought the guilt at making her feel bad. “Millie was out of her mind with worry. She didn’t know if you were hurt, taken, or worse . . . You need to go over there right now and apologize. For everything. Whatever you did to her flowers, for arguing with her, saying mean things, and disappearing. You probably need to make it up to her somehow . . . I don’t know, I’ll talk to her. Maybe you can clean up the kitchen or something.”

  Kayla’s chin began to quiver as her eyes filled.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy . . .”

  “Save it for Millie,” I said, then put my hand on her shoulder and guided her across the street.

  When we went into the front area, then the kitchen, where I saw the beautiful flowers Millie had been working on broken in a heap on the floor, I looked at Kayla and saw her wince. When we didn’t see Millie, we went upstairs and knocked on her door.

  After a few moments, I heard movement behind the door. When the door didn’t open, I knocked again, and waited.

  Finally, the door opened slowly and Millie peered out, her face swollen and puffy from crying, but before I could apologize, she looked from Kayla, then to me and stated, “I’m sorry, I can’t do this . . .”

  Millie

  “WHAT DO YOU MEAN?” JACKSON asked, his face conveying his confusion.

  I looked pointedly from him to Kayla and whispered, “Now’s not the time . . .”

  Jackson looked down at his daughter, who was watching me with a shocked expression, then brought his gaze back to mine and stated, “I’ll be back.”

  I watched numbly as he grasped Kayla and started walking her away from my door and down the hall. I noticed Kayla still watching me as I quietly shut the door, crossed to my chaise, and resumed the position I’d been in.

  Fetal.

  Sobs erupted again as decades-old sorrow filled me, compounded by the fresh pain I was feeling now.

  It felt like only moments before rapid knocking sounded at the door, like gunfire to my heart, and I rose, my stomach sinking at the thought of what I was about to do.

  What I had to do . . .

  I opened the door without looking, without waiting to acknowledge who was there, and spun on my heel to go back to my couch, my safe haven. I crawled back on my chaise, pulled a throw pillow on my lap, and hugged it, along with my knees, to my chest, as a sort of armor. Only then did I force my eyes to see Jackson, who’d grabbed the tissues off my table and was holding them out to me.

  His kindness only made me cry harder.

  “Jesus, Millie,” Jackson bit out, his hand going through his hair so hard he was practically pulling it. “What is going on?”

  I did my best to pull myself together, realizing that the faster I got this over with, the faster he would be gone, and I would no longer have to face his perfection in person, I would only be left with the reminder.

  Once I felt capable of formin
g sentences, I used one tissue to mop up my face, then another to blow my nose, before taking a deep breath and starting straight ahead as I spoke.

  “Kayla isn’t ready for this,” I began, my voice hoarse. “I should have known when we started. I guess I did know, at least I’d had reservations about you still being married . . . but I should have known that Kayla wasn’t ready for you to seriously date anyone else.”

  “Millie,” Jackson began, obviously upset and wanting to contradict what I was saying, but I kept talking.

  “Please, let me get this out.”

  When he was silent, I continued, “She hates me. I mean, not me, because she doesn’t know me, but she hates the thought of me. Of what I represent. First her mom left, now it’s just been confirmed that she doesn’t have any plans to come back, so, of course, Kayla is going to latch even harder on to you, and view anyone who could compete with her for your attention as a threat. She needs time . . .”

  I could tell Jackson was biting his tongue. He wanted to speak so badly that he was squirming in his seat next to me, but being the wonderful man that he is, he respected my wishes.

  Shit.

  I took another deep breath.

  “When we were little, our dad cheated on our mom, then left us to be with the other woman and never came back. He didn’t say goodbye, or tell the three of us anything, and we’ve never heard from him again. Tasha was angry, kind of like Kayla is now, while Dru pretended nothing happened. I, was devastated. I was Daddy’s little girl, one hundred percent.” I was barely whispering now, caught back up in the memories. The pain. “He used to take me everywhere with him. To work, fishing, poker night, to all his favorite restaurants. He’s the one who introduced my love of food. When my mom told us that he’d left, I didn’t believe her at first. My daddy wouldn’t do that, so I waited. I waited, and waited, and waited, and he didn’t come back. That first day I slept on the front porch, my mom crying with me as she held me in her arms.”

  Jackson scooted a little closer, then stopped, and I knew he was having a hard time keeping his distance.