Page 34 of Ruthless Serenade

Christine Solomon

I stare at the email in dismay. Why do I always have to be the last one on the presentation schedule? From 6 - 7 PM? Maybe I should talk to Christine about it. But then again, I can’t expect her to change everything just for me. Especially not after skipping office yesterday.

I heave a big sigh. Just another day when I can't pick up Sharon from school. But on the bright side, the presentation is over a week from now. I have plenty of time to figure out arrangements for Tania to take care of Sharon.

***

I spend the rest of the day buried in spreadsheets and reports. By the time 5 PM rolls around, my eyes are burning, and my head is ready to explode. I gather my things, bid a hasty goodbye to my coworkers, and practically sprint to my car.

After the long workday, I collapse into the driver’s seat, totally drained. I decide to give Betty a call, the one thing that always brightens my day.

"Hey, girl!" Betty’s cheerful voice answers.

"Hey, Bets," I say, already feeling some of the stress melt away. "Thanks again for saving my ass from that terrible date the other day."

"Hey, that’s what friends are for," she giggles. "But listen up. You won’t believe what I’ve got lined up for you," Betty gushes. "Another potential match! This guy is absolutely perfect-"

"Bets," I cut her off. "I’m sorry, but I can’t… that Nesbit guy was traumatizing enough for me. Plus, I’ve got enough numbers to crunch at work right now; I don’t need them in my love life, too."

Betty cracks up. "Okay, okay. I hear you. But don’t lose hope, babe. Your Prince Charming is out there somewhere."

"Prince Charming will have to wait." I stifle a laugh. "I’ve got a lot going on right now. Sharon was sick just yesterday and I had to rearrange everything last minute. And then, there’s this annual report coming up. The company owners are coming from England and Christine will have my head if I don’t perform."

There’s a short pause on the other end of the line before Betty’s voice comes through, tinged with concern. "You know, you should really find someone, Mindy. You’re going to drive yourself crazy like this and, one day, just collapse. Who’s going to look after Sharon then?"

I let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I'm not going to collapse, Bets. I’m fine. And if you start with the 'you need a man' speech again, I’m hanging up."

"Alright, alright," Betty concedes; her voice is both amused and concerned. "Take a chill pill, girl. You can’t blame your bestie for worrying about you."

I’m silent for a moment, considering my next words carefully. "Listen, Bets. There’s something I wanted to tell you."

"Well, don’t keep me in suspense. Spit it out, girl," Betty says, her curiosity piqued.

I take a deep breath. "You might want to sit down for this. Maron… I think he might be alive."

There’s a beat of silence, then Betty’s voice explodes through the phone. "Wait, are you talking about Maron Korolev? Because it really sounded like you said he’s alive and…"

"I’m not sure, Bets," I interrupt her. "But I think I saw him in town a few days ago. Sharon and I were having ice cream and his old car was in the parking lot. And the man sitting inside really looked like…" I swallow hard. "...him."

Betty lets out a low whistle. "Maron Korolev, Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Dangerous, hanging out at an ice cream joint? What, was he in line for, a Unicorn Sparkle Swirl? Or Lila Vanilla?”

I can’t help but giggle at the ridiculousness of it. “Stop it, Betty. It was definitely his old car. I’d recognize it anywhere. And although the windows are tinted, the guy inside really looked like Maron. Except a seven years’ older version of him. It’s not like there are many guys his size in NYC..."

"Oh my God, Mindy," Betty says, her tone suddenly serious. "So… did you go talk to him?"

I bark out another laugh, but it’s hollow. "Oh yeah, sure. I just skipped right up with Sharon and said, ‘Hey, Maron! Long time no see. By the way, this is your daughter. Don’t mind her silence; she’s selective about who she talks to. Oh, and here’s my account number for those pesky child support payments.’" I snort. "Besides, I’m not even sure it was him. I don’t even know what to think of all this. Maybe I’m just going nuts."

"Okay, okay, relax," Betty interjects. "But, Min, seriously… if it was really him, don’t you think you should look into it? After all, he’s Sharon’s father. Don’t you think she deserves to know him? And let’s be real, couldn’t you use the financial help?"

I fall silent, Betty’s words hitting a nerve. When I speak again, my voice is muted. "We’ve been over this, Bets. You know about Maron’s… connections. I can’t expose Sharon to that world. Besides, I’m not even sure it was him I saw."

"So, you’d rather struggle alone than give your daughter a chance to know her father?" Betty pushes, clearly not having any of my whining.

"It’s better than dragging her into the dangers of that life," I say firmly, even as my heart aches.

There’s a heavy pause on the line. Finally, Betty speaks, her voice gentle. "She’s going to ask about him someday, you know."

"She already has," I admit, my throat tightening.

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