Bitter Root (27 page)

Griffith nearly gave up waiting after an hour. It was getting
dark and she really had no idea where Adi might be. She called her again, but
only got a message that the voice mailbox was full.
Where are you?
The need to connect with Adi
was becoming overwhelming
.
She’s got to be hurting so bad. I need to find her. I have to let her know
she’s not alone, that I’m here for her.
She tossed her phone on the
chair beside her.
I’ll
sit here until you get back, no matter how long it takes. I’m not going
anywhere
. More than anything, she wanted to wrap Adi in her arms and
let her know how she felt, what it meant to be with her. She wanted take her
pain away and hold her. Just hold her.

Headlights suddenly illuminated the yard. She stood, hoping it
would be Adi at last. When the truck was fully in the driveway, she realized it
was T’Claude. He’d know where Adi was.

“Hey. I’m really sorry to hear about Bertie,” she called as he
exited the truck.

“Oh, hey there. I didn’t see you. Thanks. It was sure unexpected,
but at least she didn’t have much pain. Is Adi here?”

“No. I was hoping you knew where she might be,” she said.

“Nope. I called her about six times, but she hasn’t called me
back. I figured maybe she was sleeping or something so I decided to drive by.”

“Well, she’s not here.”

“That’s strange. I know she planned to be here tonight. We were
supposed to go over some stuff for the service tomorrow,” he said.

“Do you think we should be worried?”

“No, not yet. She’s taking all of this real hard, but she’s
tougher than you think. She’ll be okay. It just takes time. But she sure could
use a friend right now. I kinda hoped you would show up at the hospital. We
figured you’d gone back to LA.”

“I would have gone to the hospital, if I’d known what was going
on,” Griffith said.

“I don’t get how you didn’t know. Seems like you’d have called or
gone by the restaurant.”

“I did call. So many times. You and Adi both have full mailboxes
and weren’t answering. But that’s beside the point. I’m here now and I need to
talk to Adi.”

He nodded and gave her a small smile. “I stopped checking my
phone, sorry. Too many well-wishers, making it even harder. I imagine Adi has
done the same. I need to talk to her too.”

“Where could she be?” Griffith didn’t want to worry, but it was
hard not knowing what was going through Adi’s mind. She wouldn’t be able to
relax until she knew she was okay. T looked just as concerned.

“She probably went out on the bayou. She had to go to the
lawyer’s today. I’m sure she needed to clear her mind. Tomorrow’s going to be
hard on all of us, especially Adi. I guess I’ll go check on the Pot. You’re
going to stick around, right? You’ll be there tomorrow?”

“Yes, without question. If you talk to Adi, please tell here I
was here.”

“Will do.”

Griffith left him on the porch, disappointed that she had missed
seeing Adi. She headed to the hotel, hoping to hear something soon. The Boiling
Pot wasn’t going to be the same without Bertie. She needed to fill Dawn in on
what had happened. She called from her room and they spoke at length about the
evolving situation. Griff told her there might be more to the story, something
particularly interesting, but wasn’t free to talk about it just yet. Dawn
decided to put a hold on the article for the time being. Griffith knew Adi
would be relieved, and now that she knew who Nerbass was connected to, she was
relieved as well. It would give her time to reconnect with Adi and talk to her
about what she’d discovered.
If
he’s her stepfather no wonder she’s terrified he might find her. That’s one
scary man.
For Adi to not only survive him, but to make something of
herself as well, was amazing and made Griffith admire her that much more.
Whatever it took, she would help Adi be free of him for good. Then, maybe they
could find their way back to each other.

She might not have any future with Adi, but she had to give it
her best shot. She would regret it if she didn’t. As she slid into the soft
sheets of her bed, the memory of velvet kisses wrapped around her, and she knew
she would never change a second of the time they had spent together. If these
fleeting memories were all she had in the end, at least she would understand
the value of what they’d shared. The last thing she remembered as she fell
asleep was Adi’s smile.

*

Adi loaded the kayak into the back of her truck. She had driven
down to the Basin after dropping the papers at the attorney’s office. She
needed time and quiet to deal with her feelings. She didn’t know why this had
been Bertie’s time to go, but it had. She couldn’t change that. She needed to
come to grips with the fact that life was going to move on. She’d have to make
some serious decisions in the next week or so.

I don’t
want to go back to the Pot. I don’t know what I want. Damn, Bertie. What am I
supposed to do now?

No matter how many times she asked, no answer came. She was
utterly alone, and all the choices were hers now.
What do I want? I used to want a bigger place, a
larger crowd to lose myself in. Is that what comes next? Do I cast off the old
and start fresh? Maybe I should. Maybe it’s time to grow up, see the world a
little.

That sounded good inside her head, but she wasn’t sure about the
reality. Could she make it in New Orleans or Houston? Would anyone hire her?
She felt the knots of dread building in her gut. Why was it so hard? People did
it every day. Kids left home, went to school, built a life of their own. Why
did it seem so insurmountable?

She ratcheted down the tie on the boat and it hit her.
Bertie knew this would happen. She
knew you’d have questions, doubts. She already answered you, “Don’t be stuck.
Let life take a hold of you and fly.”

Adi jerked as the meaning of Bertie’s words became clear. She
knew Adi better than anyone. She’d know how losing her would lock Adi up like a
bike left out in the yard. Chain rusted, stuck fast. But she also knew a little
grease and a few good knocks would get that chain moving again. She’d given her
the grease, a stake in the business and a house, and with her parting words,
the first good knock. It was all there for her. She just had to let herself
fly.

She’d talk to T’Claude about selling her share of the Boiling Pot
to him and put the house on the market. If she had a big enough nest egg, she’d
build a life somewhere else. She’d have the funds to settle in and a bit of
time to wait for the right job opportunity. It was time.

She felt her chest constrict as anxiety about starting over
kicked in.
This is what
you need to do. It’s time to grow up and take charge of your life. I’m not
going to even think of looking back. Bertie, I’m going to fly.

Her fear gave way to excitement. She’d leave as soon as possible.
She was sure T’Claude would help her with the details.

She’d found just the place for Bertie’s ashes. A cypress tree
with the face of a woman in its weathered surface. She’d call the tree
“Bertie’s rest.” She had circled it several times, taking pictures from all
angles so she would know exactly where it was. A printed copy of the place
would be the cover to Bertie’s memorial program. Her phone had been dead since
four due to all the pictures, and she couldn’t deal with the amount of voice
mails from people calling about Bertie, so she’d ignored them, and was somewhat
relieved when the phone died and stopped ringing all the time. She grabbed her
car charger and plugged it in. T’Claude had probably been trying to get a hold
of her, but it couldn’t be helped. She’d call him when she got home.

I’m sure
he’s pissed, but I needed this. Now I’m ready to say good-bye. He’ll get over
it. I needed to find the right place for her.

When she finished off loading the kayak and getting her gear
inside, she called him.

“Where have you been, kiddo?”

“Out on the Basin. I found the spot for her, T. It’s perfect.”

“Good. Listen, how about I grab some wings and head over there?
We need to get things settled for tomorrow.”

“Okay. I might be in the shower when you get here, but come on
in,” she said.

“Right. Oh, hey, McNaulty was at your place this evening.”

Adi’s pulse sped up.
She
didn’t just leave. She’s still here.
“She was? Did you talk to her?”

“Yeah. She was hoping to see you. Would you mind giving her a
call? That story is going to mean a lot. We need to do whatever we can to make
the Pot stand out.”

“Sure. I’ll call her now,” she said.

“Thanks,” he said.

As much as she wanted to hear her voice, she dreaded talking to
Griffith. She didn’t know what to say. The last time they’d spoken was in a
different world. She couldn’t even remember what she’d said. She knew she’d
been rude, and they’d fought. So much had happened, though. How could she talk
to her without going through the whole ordeal? The whole business seemed so
trivial in comparison to the past few days.

But Adi had decided her life was about to change, and with
Griffith going back to LA at some point, there wasn’t any point in keeping what
they’d started going.
I
need to treat this like we’re just a reporter and her subject. It’s way too
personal and deep. I made a mistake letting her into my life. I’ll just make it
a professional call.
The thought of pushing Griffith away, when she
really wanted to pull her close, made her ache inside.

She steeled herself to any reaction Griffith might have and
called.

“Adi, thank goodness. Are you okay? I’m so sorry about Bertie.”

“Ms. McNaulty. I understand you were looking for me tonight?”

“What? Okay…so we’re going back to formality?”

“Did you need something?”

“I need to know that you’re okay. I want to be here for you. I
don’t even remember what we argued about, and it doesn’t even matter. I care
about you. Are you okay?”

“I’m doing well. Did you need something for your story?”

“My story? Why does that matter? What’s going on, Adi?”

“There’s nothing going on. Thank you for your condolences. If I
can’t be of further help, I have things to take care of.” Adi hated the sadness
in Griffith’s voice, but she couldn’t back down. She had a road to take, and
someone like Griffith, with all her worldliness, wasn’t on that road.

“You’re seriously just going to say good-bye? Did you hear me at
all? I care about you. Damn it, let me in.”

“If that’s all, I’ll say good night.”

“Don’t. Talk to me, please.”

“Good night.”

“Merley…” Griffith whispered.

Adi felt her blood run cold as goose bumps prickled her skin. She
dropped onto the couch, breathing rapidly.

“Did you hear me? Merley? Are you there?”

She felt severed, disembodied as the name she’d cast off rung in
her head. Merley was dead. She was never coming back. The acrid smell of gun
smoke ghosted through her nasal passage as the memory of her past crashed down
on her. She could see the rain of red mist wash through the room just as it had
that night so long ago. The sound of her phone hitting the floor barely
registered. She jumped up and ran to her room. She stuffed random items of
clothing into a bag she grabbed from the closet.
Run. He’s found you. If she knows who you are, he
knows. Run and don’t look back. Run, run, run…

She was out of the room moments later and racing for the porch.
She reached her truck in seconds and fired the engine. When the squeal of her
tires on the asphalt echoed through the night, she was gone. She wouldn’t stop
until she was in New Orleans. She would start again, but not as she’d hoped.
She’d have to scratch out a life all over, since she couldn’t go back to do the
legal stuff, but she wouldn’t face that place again. She wouldn’t be there when
he found out where she was living. She’d forget this life too, in time.
Hopefully, no one would look too hard for her.
Bertie, I wish you were here. I never should have
talked to that reporter. I knew it.
She let the tears fall as she
said good-bye to her home, to Bertie, and T, in her rearview mirror.

What
did I do? Why’d I open my mouth? Surely she won’t miss Bertie’s service?
Griffith
looked around at the gathering of friends and family who had arrived to send
Bertie on. It was a large group, showing how well loved she was. That Adi
wasn’t there was noticeable, and she could see the questions circulating among
the gathered.
I’m so
stupid. Where is she?
The fact that she could have caused Adi enough
panic that she’d miss Bertie’s service brought bile into the back of her throat
and tears gathered in her eyes. She couldn’t breathe properly.

“Where is she? She was going to call you, last I heard. When I
got to her house, the front door was wide open and her phone was lying on the
floor. What happened?” T’Claude said, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes
narrowed accusingly.

“I…I said something stupid. I don’t know where she is. We were
talking, and then she was gone. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“What did you say that made her run?”

“I can’t tell you. It’s not something she wants anyone to know
about. You’re going to have to wait until she surfaces and ask her.”

“You’re kidding me. You waltz in here, get all cozy, then scare
the shit out of her and walk away scot-free? I don’t think so. You’re going to
sure as hell help me find her. You hear what I’m saying? You’re going to turn
that investigative journalist thing to our advantage and help Adi. You made a
mess. You clean it up. Not like last time you made a mess.”

Griffith was stunned with the acid in his words.

“Yeah, I know who you are, lady. Don’t look so surprised. I can
research too. You have some serious skills in hunting information, and we’re
going to need that if we’re going to find her.”