26. Frederick
26
FREDERICK
“ I ’m outside,” I say into my phone.
The call cuts out, and my ears go back to pretending to hear the discussion floating out of the car radio. Some politician is discussing their upcoming campaign, but it’s all background noise to me.
A short while later, I see her emerge from the building. A small handbag hangs from her shoulders. She walks up to me and opens the front passenger door.
Mimi bangs my car door shut with unnecessary force as she sits down in the passenger seat. She folds her arms with sharp precision and looks straight ahead like there’s a brick wall between us.
I flinch inwardly but outwardly press my lips together. Why? Would it hurt her to close it like a normal person?
“I’m supposed to be on my lunch break. This better be good ‘cause I don’t get paid to talk to people affiliated with that traitor.” Her face stays positioned forward, her voice deathly calm.
It’s nearly noon. I’m sitting behind the wheel, parked in front of her cleaning job. After much back and forth over the phone, she finally agreed to meet me. I hope we can find a solution.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Mimi. Someone who has the kids' best interests in mind isn’t a traitor.”
“Save me the semantics.”
I tap my knuckles against my mouth and inhale sharply. “Can I get you something to eat while we talk?”
“I mean I am hungry, but it also depends on what you want to talk about.”
I dive straight in. “I want you to drop the charges.”
She turns slightly but still isn't looking at me. “No preamble or nothin,’ huh?”
“I don’t see the point in beating about the bush.”
She finally shifts her whole body to look me in the face. “I can respect that. It’ll cost you. First food. I feel a bit faint.”
“Where would you like to go?”
She tells me so I put the car into gear, drive, and follow her directions to a food truck. I make one order, for her, then we sit in the car to talk.
“This is my favorite place to eat in the city. You really should have got something for yourself,” she says between bites of a juicy burrito. “Now what was I saying? Oh, yes, it will cost you. How badly do you want me to drop the charges?”
A test it seems. I wrack my brain. What amount would satisfy her without it looking like I’m lowballing?
“Four thousand.”
She takes the last bite, licks her fingers, crunches up the wrapper, and tosses it at her feet. “You and I both know four grand isn’t life-changing money. If I minimize my spending, I could save that much in just under a year, easy.”
“Seven.”
“I don’t think you like your little girlfriend that much.” Her arms fold up once more, and I fear I might be losing her again.
Mimi drives a hard bargain. Who would have thought? I was prepared to pay something but not this much.
“Ten. Final offer,” I say.
A slimy grin spreads across her face. “One hundred hundred dollar bills? That’s more like it.” She holds an open palm out to me. I have to remind myself that Rochelle is worth it even if my instinct is to open the door and ask her to leave.
My hands fiddle with the center console between our seats. I pull out a thick stack of hundreds bundled together with a strap.
“Here you go.”
She grabs the cash from me without so much as a thank you and stuffs it into her bag.
“I appreciate this very much, and so will Rochelle. But we need to stop by the prosecutor’s office before I can let you go with the cash.”
Once we’re done with the paperwork, I drop her back at work and then text Rochelle. I’m anxious to hear her reaction.
Good news. Mimi’s dropped the charges.
Four hours later, there’s still no response.
“Guess the news isn’t as good as I hoped,” I say when I check my phone for the umpteenth time later that evening.
The next day, it’s hard for me to get any work done. I stop by her place after work because all my texts to her have been ignored. But I can’t get in, no matter how long I try buzzing up to her apartment. I look up at her window, thinking about my next move.
Finally, at my wit's end, I reach out to the apartment management’s office. “What do you mean she emptied out her place?” I ask, leaning against the side of my car.
“I don’t see how the context of my wording can be misunderstood, sir,” says the professional and clipped voice on the other end.
“Could you tell me where she moved to?” I bark into the phone.
“I cannot,” they reply stiffly.
“Could you at least tell me when she moved?”
“That’s classified information. I'm already breaching policy by telling you that she emptied out her place. Sorry, that's all I can say. But if you’re interested in finding a place we have an assortment of properties –”
I cut the call before the woman on the other end can finish her sentence.
Shit . What kind of game is Rochelle playing? I turn around, grab the door open, and throw the phone in without a care as to where it lands.
Then I bang the door shut so hard that someone screams out from a window. “For fuck’s sake, you’ll wake my baby.”
I salute in the direction of the voice apologetically and pace up and down the sidewalk in front of her apartment building. I’m lost in thought, hot breath flying out my nose in short gasps when I hear my name from behind.
“Frederick? I knew that was you.”
I turn around to see Mimi standing by the front door. She’s holding a glass of yellow juice and looks different and smug. She has a new hairdo and is draped in a very expensive-looking Hugh Hefner-type robe and house slippers to match. Didn’t take her long to dive into her big payday.
“You look a mess. Everything alright?”
I stride up to her. “Everything’s fine. Not working today?”
“I have a few family matters to attend to. Caroline started rehab, and Terrance’s in jail so I had to take a few days off to sort that out.”
A rush of blood bursts through my head. “That must be tough, but I’m glad they are both getting the help they need. How are the children taking it?”
“As well as anyone in that situation. They’re lucky to be surrounded by people who, what’s the word, have their best interests at heart.”
Something about the way she says that last sentence rubs me the wrong way.
“Can I see them? I’d love to if that’s possible.”
“Oh, I’m sure that would be great but they’re not with me.” She flashes a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “They’re with Rochelle. I assume that’s who you’re here for?”
My God, this woman. It takes everything in me to keep my voice even. I bite down on my bottom lip before I speak.
“Yes, Mimi, of course, that’s who I came to see. I understand she emptied out her place.”
A raised eyebrow. “She told you this?”
“I called the apartment manager. They wouldn’t tell me much but that’s all they divulged. Where has she gone?”
She plays with the tie around her robe, chews the inside of her cheek, and looks up as if deep in thought.
“I’m pretty sure I overheard the kids say something, you know. Yeah, if I’m not mistaken they did tell me where exactly they’d be going.”
Mimi leans her back against my car and sips her juice. Everything about her face tells me she knows just how aggravating her little act is.
“I’m a busy man, Mimi. Where are they?”
“You need to understand that I’m a bit heartbroken with everything going on right now. They would have been perfectly fine with me.” She looks at me and smiles. “I’ll need a little something to soften my painful heart.”
“Something like?”
“Oh you know, a bit like our exchange the other day. I have something you want, but it’s not free.”
My mouth almost falls open. “I just paid you handsomely.”
“For something else. This is different and brand new information.”
I turn around and look up at Rochelle’s window again. I hear movement behind me as she inches closer.
“The question isn’t how much do you have, but how badly do you want the info?” She pats my elbow. “I guess you want to think about it. You know where I am when you do decide. I’ll be here all day.”
Then she disappears into the building.
I’m desperate for their whereabouts, alright, but is it enough to pay her off again ?