Book Two a Single Tear Chapter One

The woman at the highly polished oak desk virtually threw the phone across the surface as she ended the call that had taken her completely off balance. A nameless person had the audacity to call her private home number, how they had achieved that would have her pondering the matter at length later, for now she was seething. Why would anyone think it a marvelous joke to inform her that she had a sister? Who cared if she had a sister anyway? Certainly not me. A mother who hadn’t bothered with her for the best part of forty years was something she preferred to leave dead and buried. Except, even for one as focused as she, there could be no trap door that miraculously spirited away the fact that the woman existed. As she contemplated the unknown source of the information, she laughed cynically. It has to be a hoax. The supposed sister named Lauren was in fact a figment of someone’s sick, fertile imagination. She had no doubt that it was all a ploy by an opposition that would stop at nothing to undermine her determination in steering her company toward new and exciting prospects that had recently appeared on the horizon. Her thoughts discarded the phone call completely as she began to travel down a path that would until the day she died be painful, how could it not be?

They say that memory becomes softened, blurs over time. Harriet Aristides was sure that wasn’t true and never would be. Five years later, her pain was as acute as on that fateful day when twisted metal and broken bodies robbed her of her dreams, and her life.

In front of the small shelf in her living room, she glanced at the few souvenirs she allowed to remain, reminders of what had been. An overwhelming sadness once again gripped her heart as she gazed first at the family photos of her Uncle Harry, and then of Abby’s parents and kid sister. How can life be so cruel? A small smile quivered around her lips as she looked at the picture of her uncle, who had welcomed her as his own. Her own parents were…what exactly? Explorers of the world—Don Quixote’s in search of life’s true meaning. All she knew was that the pregnancy and the burden of a child were unplanned and not welcome in their lives. Her punishment for being born was an unceremonious dumping into the lap of her namesake at six weeks of age while her mother and father disappeared to God knew where on a search for their inner selves, or whatever they called it back in the Sixties. Harriet never saw them again. She was better off without them, or so she told herself when birthdays and holidays rolled around. Truth was, it was easier to reject them than to accept the fact that she was not wanted. Her uncle had tried to convince her that her parents were not as black as she had painted them. When he finally told her that her father was dead and had died years ago, he had made things worse and not better. Her mother had apparently simply forgotten about her and married again, and, if her uncle was to be believed, had started another family. Had she abandoned the children of her second marriage—seemingly not. Abby’s parents were also explorers, but of a different breed. As scientists working for Global Research Pharmaceuticals, the same as Harriet, they lived in the most remote areas of the world. Their explorations involved searching for cures for horrific diseases. God, how I wish I had met them, she thought as she lovingly ran a tapered finger across their photo.

The bittersweet memory of Abby bursting into her office and announcing she needed to contact her parents brought a tender smile to Harriet’s face. The blonde dynamo, breezing confidently into the CEO’s inner sanctum where only the brave or foolish ventured, had entered the wrong office. Harriet sat there, totally rocked by the presence of the young woman, and then did exactly what Abigail Martin had requested. In no time, personnel set about the task of locating David and Eden Martin. The staff thought it was an odd request, coming from Harriet Aristides, but no one ever questioned her orders.

Abby was never out of her life from that moment until her world shattered.

She stroked a gentle finger over the picture of the two of them smiling for the camera while attempting to shake the reminiscences from her mind. It was the best one ever taken of them together. They had been ecstatically happy that day—the day Abby announced that she was pregnant. There wasn’t going to be any unwanted baby for them. They both wanted the glorious gift.

The next picture was of Abby flanked by Sam Parry, their baby’s biological father, and his partner Jack Washington. Abby had been about six months pregnant at the time. It was difficult to tell who was happier―Abby, who looked radiant, or the men who simply adored the bubbly warm-hearted woman. She had captured their hearts too.

Harriet picked up the miniature porcelain dog, a West Highland Terrier with a grin on its face. Abby had given it to her on her birthday…the day before the accident. Abby announced confidently that when their baby was walking, they would have a Westie, and unlike them, their baby would have the luxury of growing up with a pet. Harriet laughed softly recalling the name they gave their future pet. Charlie.

All those dreams had been shattered the day Sam agreed to take Abby for a check-up two weeks before the due date. An emergency meeting concerning a looming crisis in Puerto Rico prevented Harriet from accompanying her to the appointment. At the time, the crisis was paramount, nothing else had been more important. Nothing else was important. The words haunted her. Damn! How could I have been so preoccupied?

The solemn woman put the delicate piece back on the shelf and walked away, trying to distance her mind from the memories. God, time is flying by and I really don’t care. The sooner my life ends, the better.

The memories continued to flow unchecked…

Abby insisted that it was a routine check up and Harry should go to the meeting. After all, the baby wasn’t due for two weeks and Sam could call her if there were a problem. The pregnancy for Abby had been a breeze.

“Why will this time be any different?” Abby reasoned.

Harriet pouted.

Abby handed her the brown briefcase and said, “Go, make money. We need it for the baby.”

That was not strictly true. Harriet’s uncle was reasonably well off and had organized a trust fund, which she hadn’t touched. Besides, she was vice-president of new acquisitions and a rising star in the company. Their baby would want for nothing. The meeting had been both important and profitable. After she single handedly solved the problem in South America, the board ended the meeting by announcing she would be the new president of acquisitions. In addition, if she consented, she would take over the business in the not too distant future. Oh yeah, I wanted it. Everything was going so well. Abby was going to be so happy.

Harriet was conversing casually with a board member when her secretary Sally approached. She rested a warm hand on Harriet’s arm and began guiding her away from the others into an adjoining empty office. Harriet glared at the woman. No one ever touched her, much less forced her to go anywhere. However, when she saw the red, swollen eyes and the distress in them, she allowed the contact.

Once they were out of earshot Sally spoke in a quivering voice. “Ms. Aristides, I have a message from a Mr. Washington.”

“Talk to me, Sally. Is there a problem? Has something happened?” asked Harry, a feeling of dread washing through her. The woman burst into tears as Harriet gently sat her down in a chair in the empty office.

“I’m so very sorry, Ms. Aristides.”

Harriet knelt down beside the distraught woman looking her straight in the eye. Everything seemed surreal as she went through motions that were foreign to her. “What’s the problem?”

Sally gave her an anguished glance. How do you tell a person this kind of news? How? “It’s Ms. Martin. She…she…” Sally broke into sobs and the tears flowed freely.

Harriet stood up, her body stiff, rigid as a board, unable to shake the sinking feeling inside. Her mind envisioned various scenarios. Is it the baby? Is something wrong with the baby? Did she lose the baby? “Abby? Sally, what about Abby? Is it the baby?” Harriet asked, her stomach somersaulting at the thought. We so wanted the baby, especially with today’s news.

Sally gazed up at her boss with tear-drenched eyes. “Dead,” she managed to say, still sobbing.

Harriet had learnt early in life to accept that life was unpredictable and could change in an instant. It was paramount to not let others see the effect the change caused or they would assume they had the upper hand. Drawing upon years of habit, she schooled her features although her emotions were churning. “What exactly did Jack Washington say, Sally?” Harriet asked forcibly. Her mind seemed unable to take in that it was Jack, not Sam, who had called.

Sally, physically shaken by her boss’s glare, mumbled a few inaudible sentences.

“Tell me, Sally? For God’s sake, who is dead? Is it the baby?”

This time her secretary responded coherently and clearly. “Yes, the baby is dead.”

Harriet turned away. She’d known the answer before she asked. Then, she stood as rigid as a statue as the next, horrible words destroyed her life and her dreams for the future forever!

“There was an accident, a car accident. Abby, the baby and Sam are all dead.”

Was that an echo? The words rang around the room, echoing in Harriet’s head as she tried to digest their meaning. “Abby’s dead?” Harriet whispered, her face ashen, her body unmoving.

“Yes. I’m so sorry, Harriet.”

“Then I’m dead too.”

The words dropped into the silent room like the tolling of a death knell.