Second Chances Page 6

  “Yeah, but even then, how are you possibly paying for everything on top of your school?”

  She bit her lip.

  “Nichole…”

  She didn’t respond, only looked at the ground.

  “You aren’t in school, are you?”

  “I dropped out,” she replied. “We couldn’t afford it and I had to get a job to help pay for the food and everything.”

  Richard blew out a deep breath of air. “Then why are you still coming here?” he said. “There’s no sense in showing up if you didn’t enroll in classes this semester.”

  He glanced down at the paperwork on his desk; it was only awaiting his signature:

  “Oh. That’s why. You wanted me to take care of this, and then you would go?”

  “It wasn’t like that,” Nichole said, panicking.

  He felt a surge of anger. “It wasn’t? It sure as hell looks like that?”

  “I didn’t just stay because of that. I like working here. I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer and I really appreciate the opportunity. Everything you’ve done for me. I really appreciate it.”

  Richard felt heat in his chest as the words sunk in. He felt betrayed and lied to, both of which infuriated him.

  “You never told me anything.”

  “No, I—”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he said, anger rising in his voice. “First you lied about your Mom. It’s been months and you haven’t told me a damn thing!”

  “I didn’t know what to say—”

  “And now you come to me and lie about college to try and get me to do this for you?”

  “I didn’t mean to lie!” she said. “I just didn’t know what else to do—”

  “I could get in trouble!” he said, standing up. “For something like this. We can get in trouble with our partners for keeping you here when you aren’t in school. Do you know how many other students would kill for this internship?”

  “I know,” she said, defeated. Another tear slipped down her cheek. “I know.”

  “But the worst part,” he said. “Is that you lied to me. After all this time, you lied to me.”

  “I didn’t think you would help me.”

  “So you made that decision for me? You just decided I wouldn’t come through, and it was better to lie to me about everything instead?”

  “I didn’t plan to lie.”

  “But then you kept lying anyway.”

  “I’m sorry…”

  “Get out.”

  “Sir, please let me explain—”

  “GO!” he shouted.

  She slipped out the door and Richard leaned heavily against his desk. He sat back down in his chair and let out a deep sigh. Angrily, he crumpled up the sheet of paper with the forgery on it and threw it in his trashcan.

  He felt immensely betrayed. She had withheld so much from him, down to the most basic fact that her mother was missing and had been missing for months. Not days, months. The knowledge that she didn’t trust him made him feel sick to his stomach.

  Had anything she told him been true? He’d known she was lying about her mother, but not like this. He’d assumed she was embarrassed by her, or that maybe her mother was strange. Not that she was missing and might be dead.

  Meghan burst in a second later. She looked worried.

  “What was wrong with Nichole? She just stormed back to her office crying. Wouldn’t even look at me when I tried to talk to her.”

  “Not now, Meghan.”

  “Did something happen? What is going on—?”

  Richard looked up at her, and she immediately stopped speaking. She looked concerned. “Meghan,” Richard said, “not now.”

  Quietly and without speaking further, Meghan gently slid the office door closed and left him alone.

  Chapter 8

  Nichole

  Nichole couldn’t stop crying.

  It was worse than she’d thought, that feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had betrayed the trust of someone she respected, who had gone out of his way to help. She hadn’t thought it would bother her this much.

  She had never stolen in her life. She was petrified of breaking any rules, no matter how asinine. But, even more, she hated the idea of letting people down.

  She had let Richard down.

  She sat down at her desk and cried. Tyler’s paperwork was nearly finished, but she pushed it out of the way, scattering papers onto the floor.

  There was a knock at her door.

  “Who is it?” she asked.

  “It’s Meghan. Can I come in?”

  She thought to turn her away, but Meghan had always been nice to her. “Okay.”

  Meghan gently opened the door and stepped inside. She closed it behind her.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Nichole said. She held up her hands. “Everything.”

  “He figured out about your Mom?”

  Nichole looked up sharply. “How did you know?”

  “It was kind of obvious,” Meghan said. “The way you talked about her. I could tell you were worried.”

  “Richard didn’t know.”

  “No,” Meghan said. “But, that man is one of the smartest dumb people I’ve ever met. He is oblivious to the world around him.”

  Nichole wiped her nose. “I was waiting for him to bring it up, weeks ago, but he never did.”

  “He wasn’t always like this,” Meghan said. “So self-absorbed. He used to really want to help people. Make the world a better place. Then he just got jaded.”

  “What happened?”

  “He started working in the private sector. When you’re surrounded by people who are of a certain frame of mind, it starts to rub off on you. He’s lost touch with what’s important, and just worries about his clients and money now.”

  “So why do you still work for him?”

  “Because deep down, I know he’s still a good guy. He just needs to figure out what matters. He’s actually been a better person recently, and I’d hoped he would start finding some passion to do the right things again.”

  “What do you mean? What changed recently?”

  “You,” Meghan said. “You started working here, and everything has been better.”

  Nichole laughed sardonically. “Fat lot of good that did,” she said. “Won’t be working here anymore.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “I also told him that I wasn’t in school.”

  “Oh,” Meghan said, hesitating. “That one I didn’t know about. Why not? You were doing so well.”

  “I don’t have the money to keep going,” she said, “and the financial aid doesn’t even come close to covering it.”

  “I’m sorry,” Meghan said.

  “The internship is contingent on my grades,” Nichole said.

  Meghan nodded slowly. “Yes. It is.”

  “So I guess I’m done working here.”

  Meghan didn’t reply, but her silence spoke volumes. She had a deeply concerned look on her face, tinged with sadness.

  “Richard hates me now,” Nichole said.

  “No, he would never hate you. That’s one thing I can guarantee. One thing about Richard is, if you make it into his inner circle, he is fiercely loyal.”

  “I guess I’m not in that circle,” Nichole said.

  Meghan smiled. “Believe me, Nichole, you are definitely in there. Richard just might not know it yet. But give him time, he’ll come around.”

  “Okay,” Nichole said with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t need to apologize for anything,” Meghan said. “And remember, if you ever need anyone to talk to, my door is always open.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Keep your chin up,” Meghan said.

  Then she left, leaving Nichole alone in the office. She began packing her belongings, hoping to slip out without being noticed.

  After a few minutes there was another knock at the door. Without waiting for an answer, Richard opened it and came in.

/>   He looked sad now, not angry. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “I think so.”

  “I’m sorry. For my reaction. I just…”

  “I know,” she said. “I didn’t want to keep this from you…but…”

  He sighed. “I understand.”

  “I’ll finish packing my things,” she said.

  He hesitated, as though about to object, then only nodded. “It’s for the best.”

  She sniffed again and wiped her nose. “I know.”

  “I can’t…I can’t submit the paperwork,” he said. “It’s too dangerous for my career without having your mother here to sign and be present. Neither you nor your brother are Kenni’s legal guardian. If the court wanted to meet your mother…”

  Nichole nodded. “It’s okay. I understand.”

  He stood in the doorway for a second. “It was nice having you here. I hope everything works out.”

  “Me too,” she said. He slipped back into the hallway, and she felt another tear slip down her cheek. “Me too.”

  Chapter 9

  Richard

  “You didn’t have to be so…”

  Richard glanced up from his desk. He’d pulled out a stack of reports to work on. He’d spent the last hour staring at them, but hadn’t actually processed any of the information. It was all a blur, the words blending together.

  Nichole had left the office twenty minutes earlier. She was still upset, but at least she had stopped crying.

  “Direct?” he offered. Meghan stood in the doorway of his office, folding her arms and looking depressed.

  “I was going to say ‘mean’,” she replied. “What was Nichole supposed to do?”

  “Tell the truth,” Richard replied, setting the papers down.

  “Easy for you to say,” Meghan said. “But put yourself in her shoes for a minute. What would you have done in her place?”

  Richard thought about it for a second. “I don’t know what I would have done. I never really got along with my parents. Certainly not at her age, so the comparison isn’t possible.”

  “That’s a coward’s answer.”

  “Then maybe I am a coward.”

  “You sure are sounding like one right now,” Meghan replied.

  Richard narrowed his eyes, then took a deep breath.

  “Would you have taken care of your siblings like she is?” Meghan asked.

  This question was harder to answer. What Richard wanted to say was ‘yes’, because he liked to think of himself as a good person, the kind who would sacrifice for his family and friends. The kind who would take care of people when they needed him.

  “No,” he said, knowing that how he thought of himself didn’t mesh perfectly with reality. “I wouldn’t. If my brother or sister were in that situation, I would have just left. What about you?”

  Meghan was thoughtful. “I wouldn’t now, since I’ve had children and I know what it’s like to be a mother. But at her age…I wouldn’t have stuck around, I was too busy doing my own things.”

  Richard sighed. “That doesn’t change that she lied. She could have told me the truth and I would have helped her.”

  “No,” Meghan agreed. “It doesn’t change things.”

  “What really irks me was that she made up my mind for me. She never even gave me the option to help, like it was a foregone conclusion that I wouldn’t.”

  “Would you have?”

  “Of course! I would have helped if I’d known,” he said. “I could have asked around to find out what happened to her mother.”

  “Maybe you’re looking at this the wrong way. Maybe it isn’t your place to help.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Remember last year, when Deborah was pissed at you over that supply thing?”

  Richard leaned back in his chair. “I remember: she came home and told me she was having a problem with her online company and needed a new supplier for bracelets and wrist bands.”

  “And what did you do?”

  “I found her a new supplier.”

  “Exactly!”

  Richard shook his head. “What? I still don’t know why she was so mad at me.”

  “That was why.”

  “Because I found her a supplier?”

  “Yes,” Meghan said. “She wanted to tell you about a problem, not have you solve it for her. She needed someone to talk to; someone to bounce ideas off of. She didn’t want you to fix it, only to listen and sympathize.”

  “Why tell me about a problem if she didn’t want it solved?”

  “That’s the thing Richard, you are a problem solver. You haven’t met a problem that you couldn’t beat your head against enough times until it either went away or was solved. People can’t tell you things, because instead of listening you start looking for a solution.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying: maybe it isn’t your place to find a solution to Nichole’s problem.”

  “If I can help, why wouldn’t I?”

  “That is exactly why people can’t and won’t tell you things,” she said. “She kept this from you for your own good.”

  “She should have let me help,” Richard said.

  “And she is,” Meghan said, holding up the folders Nichole had been working on. “Help her with the things she asked for. Nothing more, and nothing less.”

  Richard sighed.

  “I can get in trouble with the courts if I submit that paperwork.”

  “You could. You probably won’t,” Meghan said. “But you’re right, you could. What if Nichole was the guardian for those two kids?”

  “Then she could submit the paperwork for her brother and sister anyway,” Richard said. “But, if they don’t know where their Mom is or what happened to her, there’s no way the courts will approve her becoming guardian. They can’t easily make Nichole the guardian if her mother is only missing. It would take months of paperwork without more information.”

  “Then just submit this paperwork and get Kenni transferred.”

  Richard frowned. “And what if the judge asks to speak to the Mom?”

  “Then stall and throw up roadblocks. You’re good at that kind of thing.”

  “It wouldn’t be easy.”

  “Is that really what you’re worried about? Having to put in a few extra hours of work to do this for her? Or is it something else?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Is it because she lied to you? She looks up to you, and you treat her like a daughter. It breaks your heart, knowing she didn’t trust you with this.”

  Richard waved his hand, brushing the thought away. “She lied, but that isn’t the issue. The issue is ethics.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Richard didn’t reply. Honestly, he wasn’t.

  Meghan glanced down at her watch. “It’s almost five. I think I’m going to go home.”

  “Okay,” Richard said. He rubbed his face. “I should as well, so I can get ready to meet my brother.”

  “It won’t be too bad,” she said.

  “I know,” Richard replied. “I know it won’t. I…I honestly don’t even know why I’m so apprehensive about it. It isn’t a big deal.”

  “No, not really,” Meghan replied. “Have a good night.”

  “You too,” Richard said.

  Meghan headed back to the lobby and a second later he heard the elevator opening. He waited a few minutes and then headed out as well.

  On her desk Meghan had left a manila folder, sitting on the edge of the counter. Richard flipped it open and saw Kenni and Tyler’s paperwork, neatly folded and paper-clipped. A post-it note was attached to the front. It read:

  A little extra risk never killed anyone.

  Chapter 10

  Nichole

  After leaving the office, Nichole wandered for a bit. She thought to head to her afternoon job, but her legs refused to go in that direction. She was too miserable and exhausted to want to talk to any more people today.

&
nbsp; She was still upset, but a large part of her was more angry than upset now. She was angry at the entire situation, the circumstances that had brought her to this point. She didn’t have anywhere to turn to for help, and it was infuriating.

  She was sick of constantly having to worry about what to do next. She hated wondering how people felt about her, and how they treated her. She shouldn’t need to go to anyone for help, ever.

  It had never really sunk into her just how cold of a place this world could be. All she wanted to do was live her life quietly and be content, but that wasn’t what she was being offered. Instead, it felt like there were invisible arms holding her back.

  She looked over at a random passerby heading the other direction on the sidewalk. He was a twenty something guy in a business suit, talking on his phone and ignoring the world around him. She stepped in his way, forcing him to notice her.

  “Is it worse that I’m a woman?” she asked him. “Or that I’m black?”

  He looked at her like she was crazy and then kept walking. She felt the urge to laugh and kept wandering down the road, smiling even though she had nothing to smile about.

  She called her other job and told them she wasn’t coming in. She felt almost delirious with the pain and anger inside of her and it would just be too much having to try and work right now. She tried calling her brother, but he didn’t answer. Probably busy.

  “Thanks bro,” she mumbled. “Never there when I need you.”

  She knew definitively that her statement wasn’t true: Rico had been there every single time she had needed him. But saying the words satisfied an angry piece of her that was wallowing in self-pity.

  She kept walking, still aimless. She thought to head home, maybe read a book or something to distract her, but right now she couldn’t even find the motivation to do that.

  Finally, she called her house phone number. She had always teased her Mom about having a home phone in the twenty-first century. It rang through to the answering machine. She heard a click, and then her mother’s voice:

  “You have reached the Blake residence. We are not in right now, but you can leave us a message and we’ll call you back.”

  A tear slipped down her cheek. She heard a beep from the machine and then clicked the phone off. She hoped to see her mother again, but she didn’t think it was very likely. Part of her—a much larger part than she wanted to admit—already knew that her mother was gone and would never come home.