Page 154 of When We Were Us
Now that the assets can be put into record, it is just a matter for the attorneys and the accountants to tally numbers, pay outstanding business debts—of which there were few—and close joint accounts. Releases of liability would be drawn up and it would be over. Still, all told, it could take up to ninety days for everything to be finalized.
Today was my official last day of work, and although I’m a little sad, it feels right.
The past few weeks, I’ve been in contact with all six of my remaining clients to try to find another colleague for them to work with because they were not comfortable staying with Derek. I don’t owe Derek anything, but some of these people have been with me since the beginning and I don't want to leave them hanging.
Most others have decided to stick with Derek because the support of the private animal hospital means more money for state-of-the-art equipment and better care. A lot of it isn’t necessary, but when you have a horse or multiple horses anywhere between $100,000 to $300,000 dollars, you want only the best.
Also, since most of our clients are racing facilities or racehorse owners, sponsorships and networking are a big part of the equation. That’s always been something Derek is amazing at, and his connections alone are worth their weight in gold to these people. I’m also guessing it's more than likely they’ve been given or promised some kind of incentive to follow him if I know Derek. But he would never admit to that, obviously.
A text comes through on my phone and I look down to see it’s from Ginger. She’s here to give me a ride back to her place, where I’ve been staying since coming back.
I close and lock the condo behind me and take the stairs to the small lobby.
Ginger is sitting out front in her Honda Civic, and when I climb in, the boys both shout in unison: “Auntie Wrennie!”
“Hey, my little dudes! How was school?”
They launch into some story about apples and toilet paper, making me laugh. Tate and Jordan are going to be four in two weeks, and they are the funniest little couple of jabber boxes. They remind me a lot of Paige.
Ginger shakes her head at me and flicks her eyes to the rearview mirror, where I see her boys bouncing up and down in their seats upon my arrival. They’re dressed exactly alike, even down to the name tag stickers on their shirts from the preschool they attend.
“I carry them for nine months, pop them of out my V-A-G-I-N-A, nurse them until my jugs are sagging to my waist, bathe and clothe them, and I don’t get so much as a ‘Hi Mom’from them. You get in the car and it's like Mardi Gras up in this B-I-T-C-H,” she grumbles.
“Aw.” I laugh as I look over at her. “Your jugs donotsag to your waist. Halfway at the very most.” I snicker and she smacks me. “Also, what will you do when they can spell?”
“Smart ass.”
“You started it.”
We drive for a few minutes as the boys continue their raucous laughter, now prattling on about poopy heads and alligators.
“Mexican for dinner?” Ginger asks. Her neighborhood has the best little Mexican bistro that’s just down the street from her place. The carnitas melt in your mouth. They also sell margaritas in gallon jugs. They may be made with the cheapest tequila money can buy, but they sure do take the edge off a long day. We’ve had a gallon twice a week since I’ve come back from Timber Forge.
“Sounds good.”
“Peter should be at the house around seven. Then, it’s you, me, and Monday margs.” She holds out her fist and I bump mine against it like we’re a couple of bros.
Two hours later, I am sufficiently stuffed with tacos and guacamole. I’ve got a nice, little buzz going and I am beat. There are old reruns on TV, but neither one of us is really paying attention to it.
“So, condo is all packed up then?” she asks, pouring herself another margarita and tucking her feet underneath her.
“Yep. All done. I really appreciate you letting me store my stuff in the garage. I’ll call around tomorrow and see about getting everything shipped.”
“Of course. I already told you, anything you need.” She refills my glass and clinks hers against mine, then takes a sip.
“I have an appointment at the dealership for the Range Rover on Wednesday at ten.”
My vehicle has been parked in Ginger’s garage up until yesterday, when I had a detailer pick it up to have it waxed and cleaned on the inside. I didn’t even want to set foot in it until all traces of Derek and Tracy’s little afternoon delight were thoroughly scrubbed from itandmy memory. The latter would take a little more than a detail though. Just thinking about it now makes my skin crawl.
“That’s great. Hopefully it will sell quick. And remember, I have that work meeting at two-thirty tomorrow. Will you be ok to watch Tate and Jordan until I get home? Peter can keep them after he picks them up if you’d rather not.”
“No, I want them. Maybe we’ll bake cookies and I’ll get ‘em all hyped up on sugar and some of this margarita,” I tease.
She cackles. “Your funeral.”
I shoot her a smile. “The guy at the dealership says the Rover should sell pretty fast,” I say, bringing the conversation back to what I still need to do before leaving. “I'll be so glad when all this is over.”
“I’ll be glad to never see Derek’s wrinkled, old ass again.”
