Julia
Iused my knuckles and rapped upon Mother’s partially opened office door as I stepped inside. The interior of her office wasn’t much different than my father’s. Mom’s had a feminine touch that was hard to pinpoint. She and Dad shared a common space where Janie and Mom’s assistant, Kathy, worked.
As I appeared, my mother looked up from her desk, her surprised expression indicating she wasn’t expecting this early-morning visit. It had been four days since her big party, and while I’d spent most of my waking hours going through the information from Wade Pharmaceutical, I had to admit that Van’s knowledge and questions had broadened my curiosity.
Van emphasized that he had no proof. That was why he framed them as theories—a rational type of abstract thinking used to account for a situation. It was my goal to move on to solid conclusions.
At this moment, trying to make sense of Wade’s recent decline felt as though I were pushing round pegs into square holes.
That was why I was here, why I wanted to talk to Mother.
When it came to Wade, she and I had been less communicative than me and Dad. I admitted last night to Van—and to myself—that when it came to my mother, I was less self-assured. I knew she’d been supportive and still I had trouble in her presence maintaining the assertion that I was capable of being on equal ground in the running of Wade.
Admittedly, the last few weeks had strengthened my resolve.
Van had done that.
He’d shown me that I was more than a pawn—I was a capable adult. Now it was time to make good on that.
“Julia.” Mom’s eyes went to her computer and her calendar. “I’m sorry, did we have an appointment?”
I shut the door, made my way to the chair across from her desk, and sat on the edge. “I called Kathy. She said you had a free slot this morning. I was hoping we could discuss a few things.”
“Oh, Julia. I wish you would have called. While this time wasn’t booked, I had it that way because I’m swamped. With the holidays, the party, canceling your wedding, I have so much to catch up on. Maybe you could come back. I know, we can go to lunch. It’s been forever since we went to Palm Court at the Drake and had tea.” Her smile brightened. “You aren’t planning on leaving town anytime soon, are you?” Before I could speak, she lifted the receiver to her telephone. “I’ll have Kathy call for reservations.”
“I don’t want tea, Mom.”
Her blue eyes narrowed as she returned the receiver to its cradle. “You don’t have to order tea.”
I took a deep breath. “I’m here because I’ve spent the last few days going over the information you and Dad authorized for me to receive. Did you realize that it only goes back twenty months?”
Mom stood, her chair gliding backward. Her navy-blue skirt, matching jacket, and cream blouse accentuated her fit figure. In her mid-fifties, she was still beautiful. I knew it came with hard work and a strict diet. My mom wasn’t the cosmetic surgery type of pretty. No, she took her health and appearance seriously. One could say a lot of things about her, but when it came to her workout and caloric intake, she was disciplined.
As she stepped around the desk, her nude Louboutin pumps clipped on the faux wood floor. Making her way to the ornate sideboard near the side wall with a coffee maker, she asked, “Would you like a cup of coffee? You prefer cream, right?”
“Mom, please sit back down and tell me why my information is limited.”
“I’m not sure what you want or need, Julia. This is highly unusual for us to allow that data to leave our secure servers.”
“I want to understand how Wade got to where it is.”
Mom turned toward me, leaning against the sideboard with a mug in her hands. “Dear, I’m so proud of you. I’ll admit I was shocked when you left Chicago. I never imagined you’d cancel the wedding. But now, Julia, you’ve saved Wade. You do realize that, don’t you?”
“Van saved Wade, not me. And I’m not sure if he saved it or merely gave it a rousing jolt of electricity, a defibrillator of sorts.”
“No. It’s because of you.” She shook her head. “There’s been so much stress. Having even a sixty-day reprieve is a miracle.”
“Is it?”
Mom went back to her chair and sat, placing her mug on her desk.
The city of Chicago was on display behind her through a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. Fog and clouds filled the January morning sky with shades of gray as lights blinked on the top of buildings and spires.
She spoke, “I authorized the information back twenty months. I don’t see how, if your quest is to learn about the new research, you needed to go back further.”
“My quest,” I began, “is all-encompassing.”
“And what do you want to know?”