As I drove home, I should have felt good. All the pieces of my life were falling in place. But the way I’d gotten there made me wonder if it was worth it. Did the means justify the ends? Fuck, I hoped so.
24
Trina
Over the last few days, I’d gotten myself a little more together. At least at work. I had to pull it together because I had a child to think about and couldn’t risk losing my job, along with health benefits. Of course, my workday was made slightly less stressful as Sinclair seemed to be mad and was avoiding me. Brooke kept a wide berth from me as well, which I appreciated. I couldn’t look at her and not think about how the mayor was giving her my job. And since the mayor seemed to prefer to work with Brooke, I didn’t have to talk to him much either. As a result, I could work in peace and quiet, without drama. The only problem was that the isolation was turning out to be unwelcome as well.
There’d been a time in which working on my own without distractions would have been ideal. Now, while I got a lot done, I felt alone. As an adult, I’d grown to want to be alone and self-sufficient, but this tapped into some sort of residual childhood pain. It was one thing to be alone because I wanted to. It was another to be ignored or forgotten, which was what I felt now.
It was my own doing and perhaps Sinclair was right in that I needed to talk to someone. The problem was that Salvation was a small town. While the few therapists that were here kept client confidentiality, their offices were in places where people would see me. I didn’t want people knowing I was seeing a counselor. My business was my business. Perhaps I was too proud. Maybe people wouldn’t care that I was getting help. Maybe they’d be glad. All I knew was that I’d felt like people watched and talked about my family while I was a kid. I didn’t want that now that I was grown up.
I was just sending the mayor a recent financial report from the parks and rec department when Sinclair stormed into the main area of the office and slammed a newspaper down on my desk.
“Did you have something to do with this?” she demanded.
I stared at her in stunned confusion and then looked down at the paper, reading the headline. “Wallace is running for mayor. You think I set that up?”
She jammed her finger on the article again.
I looked again, noting the subheadline. “And Stark is backing him.” I shrugged, still failing to see why she was hot and bothered. She knew she wasn’t going to run for mayor uncontested. Supporting her rival seemed right up Stark’s alley, so I don’t know why that bothered her, except maybe he was funneling a lot of money into his campaign.
“Look at the picture,” she said tightly.
I studied the grainy black and white newspaper photo showing a tent and lots of hoity toity dressed up people.
“He’s got rich people backing him. I still don’t see—”
“That’s Ryder!”
I jumped at her voice but looked where her finger was pointed. Sure enough, Ryder was standing on a platform playing his guitar. I studied it further noting that he was alone. His bandmates weren’t there. That didn’t seem right. I frowned. And then I realized what Sinclair had accused me of.
“You think I made him do that? Why? I don’t like Stark. He doesn’t like Stark.” I was baffled.
“Maybe you told him he was a loser and needed money.”
The comment hurt, even though I knew why she’d think it. “I’d never ask him to do—”
“You were chummy with Stark the other week. Maybe you manipulated him.”
I wasn’t sure if she meant I manipulated Stark to hire Ryder, or Ryder to play for Stark, but it didn’t matter, I resented the implication. I could feel myself getting hot, physically and emotionally, but I did my damnedest to hold it in.
“I don’t know what you think you saw Stark say to me, but he and I weren’t chummy, although he had more manners than you right now.” I pushed the newspaper back toward her.
“My brother betrayed me. The one who all of a sudden is worried about money.”
“He’s having a baby,” I said. “Maybe he is concerned about that.”
“Yes, I wonder why?” Again, her tone was accusatory.
“Look Sinclair, I haven’t seen nor talked to Ryder in over a week.” Jesus, had it been that long? No wonder I missed him. “If you have questions about this, maybe you should talk to him, because his playing for Stark wasn’t my idea. I didn’t even know it was happening.” I looked at the picture again, shocked that he’d have agreed to play for Stark. “I’m sure there’s an explanation.” I looked up at her again. “Ryder loves you and I think maybe this picture isn’t telling the whole story. You shouldn’t assume the worst.”
“That’s a funny thing to hear from the person who’s always thinking the worst of people,” she sniped.
I sighed. She wasn’t wrong about that either. I remembered accusing Ryder of moving on with Erica Edmonds because of the business card. In retrospect, I mishandled that. I shouldn’t have acted jealous because I knew where we stood. Hell, I was eager to get home and on with my own life alone. I ignored the voice in my head that called me a liar.
Then, speaking of the devil, Erica walked into the office.
“Oh good, you’re here,” she said walking up to Sinclair. “I was wondering if I could get a statement from you on the fact that Simon Stark is backing your rival for the mayor’s position.”