Page 21 of Fourth Heartwarmers Trilogy
She’d even shown her finished products online and the shock came when order after order followed. The people watching her show demanded she let them buy her wonderful pieces. It got so she had more orders than she knew what to do with.
Accepting her success, full of ideas that never stopped, she’d hired one and then another Mexican girl her age desperate for work to help her produce the clothing. Her specialties for mother and daughter outfits, and even shirts for daddies and dudes, were so popular, she built up a very decent source of income.
Once they’d decided to move to L.A. her audience hadn’t changed, just her vicinity and life became fun and lively. She and Jasmine had lived in a charming whirlwind of romantic escapades and career building. Until Maisie arrived.
Then Jasmine became brittle, harder, gained a disgust for the male species, and her recluse ways shifted over to Mia who’d tried to be supportive. Years had flown by as they’d centered their lives on the little girl they both adored.
When the call came that Jasmine had been killed in a car accident, in a taxi on the way to the airport to return home, Mia had gone to her knees, wailing so loud she scared herself.
Calls and messages began flooding in from friends in Phoenix as well as in L.A., and the one that meant the most was from her Aunt Angie.
She loved Jassie and adored Maisie as much as the rest of Mia’s family and was devastated from the news. “Honey, I’m so sorry you lost Jassie. I did as you requested and went to see your mom and dad to tell them in person. Alicia carried on so, we finally had to give her a sedative, and Frank just went quiet. You know how he does when he’s upset. What a terrible waste of such a beautiful girl. A taxi accident. Goodness, it’s a true shame. Have you decided what you’re going to do now?”
“I can’t stay here anymore, Angie. It’s too sad. Maisie doesn’t understand what’s happened, but she’s reacting to my behavior and has begun sucking her finger and fretting terribly. She’s constantly seeking attention and cries more than she’s ever done before. I need to get both of us away from the memories that make me so sad.”
“And that’s another reason I called. I want you to come and live with me here in this big ole mausoleum. If you insist on a place of your own, I can get my handyman, Jack, to reno the larger casita on the property. It would give me so much pleasure to share in your and Maisie’s immediate future… just until you know what and where you want to eventually end up. Please say you’re going to think about it. Your mom and dad have their fingers crossed and me… I have my fingers, hands, arms, legs and eyes crossed so you’ll agree.”
Giggling at the image of her aunt’s goofiness, Mia answered, “Yes, a hundred times yes. I’ll be there as soon as I can get everything organized here.”
Chapter Two
Jack smiled when he saw whose name the caller ID showed on his cellphone screen. “Hey Angie, it’s nice to hear from you. What’s up?”
“Hi Jack, looks like I’ll be needing some work done on my house again.”
“You do? I thought after we finished the roof, you never wanted to see us again… me especially.” He teased one of his favorite customers on purpose.
“Oh poo. You know I adore you. If I didn’t have real work that needed to be done, I might just drive my car through the garage so I could bring you around again.”
“Honey, you did that last year. You’ll have to come up with a better ploy; maybe set fire to one of the back casitas.” He chuckled as he joked.
“Don’t laugh, Jack. It’s why I’m calling. I actually want you to redo the bigger casita. Not the one I use for my studio, but the one buried behind the cactus hedge. It’s been bugging me foryears about what to do with that place, and now I’m having my niece come to live here, and I want it to be as lovely as only you can make it.”
“Okay, Angie. I’ll be there in about an hour. And I’ll love you forever if you have a Guinness cold and ready for me.”
“We’ll both be waiting – me and the beer. See you soon.”
Jack Markham let his thoughts roam. Driving to the O’Brien place to have his meeting with Angie, a nice senior who’d given him a lot of work over the last few years, he felt better than he had in months.
He appreciated the older woman’s business, but even more so her kindness. After all, if it hadn’t been for people like Angie, who knows where he might have ended up? Due to the unfortunate incident while on a mission in Iraq, his earlier years were a blur.
Healed completely now from the disaster in his early twenties, he knew one thing and would never forget it. Though his body was solid again, strong and able to withstand the punishment it took from the physical work every day… crawling, hauling, lifting, carrying… his mind still had to be focused. And that’s where those earlier problems had localized… in his head.
Mind-numbing precious pills the military doc prescribed had made life livable. They’d taken away the pain from a messed-up body. They’d enabled him to exist on a sweet cloud of easy living.
Much later, when he’d recognized that he had a problem, he’d had a choice to make, and it wasn’t an easy decision. Ashamed, he admitted to putting it off for far too long before he recognized the line. That line of no return where you become so addicted you’ll take anything you can get when the prescribed pills are all gone.
Like most others in his position, he’d played the game. Surely, I didn’t take them all. Did I lose some? Maybe they didn’t fill the prescription right; must have shorted me. But he’d known in hisheart that like a piggy at the trough, he’d gobbled them up and didn’t care about the future. He’d lived for then and there.
Except, the day had come when he’d found an empty pill bottle and no refills. That’s the moment when he’d been forced to see himself clearly and decide his future once and for all.
Did he choose pain? Could he handle his recuperation on over-the-counter drugs, holistic remedies and physical therapy rather than the opioids they’d been prescribing?
Years later, he still winced when he remembered the days of agony he’d suffered, when tears had always been close and self-pity hovered like the devil’s temptation. You don’t have to put up with this, man. There’s other stuff you can use – heroin, cocaine. Ralph downtown will get you anything you need.
His rehab had taken longer because he’d given up the heavy drugs, but in the end, he’d come away still able to walk, his back had healed and so had his broken leg and his crushed ribs.
What hadn’t healed, and never would, was the memory of the horrific hours at the bomb site when he’d waited for help to arrive, thinking he might never be found. And then, like an answer to his prayers, an older man showed up, waiting with him until the medics came.
