38. Side 2/Track 0
thirty-eight
I don’t recognize the address Helen texted me. It can’t be her townhouse. Or maybe I just can’t see straight with all the mascara staining my eyes.
I’m shaking so hard I can’t press start on my navigator app. I just want to get there. I just want to be somewhere because I don’t know what to do.
I have no memory of my drive toward this side of town into this strange neighborhood. I’m driving through a tear-stained grace of God or good fortune. Other than the street Blitzen Manor and Judge Prichard live on, I didn’t know there were mansions in Blitzen.
The drive I’m prompted to turn into winds up to the largest mansion in the cul-de-sac, or is that still one house and it’s own dead end?
This place is massive. It’s a dark red brick mansion that looks to be at least three stories.
Parking my Bug, I race to the front entrance like a complete lunatic or some feral cat that just realized things might be better inside. My knock demands attention, and I don’t care if I’m being rude. The door opens slowly, and I see a small white-haired woman who looks very much like Helen.
She’s Korean and has Helen’s trademark dainty build, delicate lips, and graceful chin. I’m so startled by the house and the stranger at the door who resembles Helen that I must have forgotten how crazy I look.
The older woman lets me in on instinct. She nods at me, smiling sympathetically, then looks me over, and pulls me further into the luxury home’s living room.
A kitchen door slams, and I hear Helen yelling, “No, mother! I didn’t forget. I said I’d handle it later.” Helen takes a breath and appears in front of us.
She speaks several sentences in Korean to the woman who let me in, then I distinctively hear her say, Kourt . The woman turns to me and holds her arms out. She embraces me and squeezes me tightly.
“Erika, meet my grandmother. Halmeoni , this is Erika.”
I hug her back with what little I have left in me, and she motions to Helen, pointing at my face. The older woman says something in Korean and walks to the kitchen.
“Sorry, she won’t speak English to you, but she understands every word. She’s going to cook you something, and she asked me to wipe your face for God’s sake.” Helen throws up her arm dismissively and rolls her eyes as she walks me to a sitting room.
“I’m so sorry I came to you like this. I didn’t know where else to go or what to do. I thought you had a townhouse here and a place in Chicago.”
“I do. Umm. My family just got back into town. They surprised me by coming home, here instead of the house in the city. They are, apparently, excited about a Blitzen Christmas.”
“Awe.” I begin crying inconsolably. “How come I don’t know them yet?”
“Uh. That’s my grandmother. She’s Korean, and so is my dad. My mom’s American, born and raised in Chicago, and please don’t ask me anymore questions about the people making my holidays hell right now.”
“Helen, are you rich?”
“Again, let’s not waste time with conversations we can have at a later date. Let’s start with why you have mascara streaming down your face and are at my family home that no one comes to but me or Kourt. And. I think I just got my answer.”
“I’m horrible to intrude on you Helen. You belong to Kourt and maybe he needs you at a time like this, although I don’t know what this is… I don’t know anything anymore.”
“Erika.”
“The mixtape I bought at the flea market and guided my life by is Angie’s.”
“ Oh , shit.”
“And to add insult to injury, I went on and on about how it was my fate or destiny to find the tape and meet Kourt. That each song was leading me to him like a sign.”
Tears I didn’t know I had left in me leak down my cheek. “I didn’t know, Helen. I promise. How could I know that to him it was the worst possible reminder of that fatal night?”
“This is my fault Erika. Kourt called me on my way to the airport to get you. He mentioned he was going through old boxes and he was taking the last of Angie’s stuff to Mr. Hawkins.
That’s what reminded me about the flea market.
I remembered you loved Christmas, so I thought it was the perfect place to take you.
How would I know that tape was in that box?
Or that it would uncannily end up in your hands? ”
“I don’t think he knew it was in that box or inside the recorder either. Well… anyway, I guess I’m here because I don’t know how to lose a love like this.”
“Oh, my God. Did you say love…”
I look at Helen at the realization of what I just said, and I can’t deny it.
“Shit.” Helen gets up and paces around the room.
“Now, wait a minute. The both of you. This is just a freak thing kind of hiccup. It’s nobody’s fault.
Nobody did anything wrong to anybody—” Helen sits and grabs my hands.
“I don’t mean this callus Erika, but it’s the same thing I told you when you found out about her…
Angie’s dead. This tape doesn’t change that, nor does it change the fact that the tragedy happened three years ago.
If you take away the tape, nothing has changed. ”
“Everything has changed. You should have seen his face.”
“Oh, I’ve seen that face, alright.”
“He’ll never look at me the same way, and honestly…
well, he left me there, Helen. And he promised he’d never do that again.
I know it sounds silly, and the adult in me knows he had every right to step away and take the information in.
He had every right to be upset by it, but it broke my heart.
And that’s something I can’t handle from him.
I haven’t known him long. But I know he is the only person who has the ability to destroy me. ”
I stand with an odd resolve.
“Look, I better go. Get you back to your family, and he might be calling you. He might need you.”
“Erika…”
“Erika, listen to me. You’re going to get up, get dressed, hop a flight and I’ll be there to pick you up from the red eye.”
Archer doesn’t sound too off with that plan.
“You’re right. Blitzen has its Christmas fundraiser working out for the truck, I checked out Great Aunt Josie’s spot, and I can just take myself home the same way I came here.”
“That’s right, Erika. Home to your best friend and Chicago, and don’t forget your promotion—you’ll be coming home to the Harmon case. It’s what you’ve pined for the last three years. Believe it or not—you have everything going for you.”
“I have nothing going for me, Archer! This is the exact same position I was in when I sobbed on your tie and you passed me Josie’s envelope.
There, I was polka dots versus Ivy League.
Here, I’m just some bored ad exec who forced Christmas on a small town and unhinged the widowed basketball coach’s life. ”
“What did he say to you, Erika?”
“It doesn’t matter, Archer. It’s me. I’m the anomaly, I’m the mistake, or the fly in the ointment.”
I look around my bedroom at Josie’s. Somehow being downstairs didn’t feel hidden enough. If there were chairs, and I knew the internet worked, I would truck to the attic. And there it is: There’s no place far enough to hide from yourself.
“You are not the fly in the ointment back here at the firm. You’re their prize pitch.
Trust me. You need to read everything I sent over.
They are desperate, to not only have you back to lead the account, but they want to promote you.
I’ve been trying to tell you for days. Hell, they’ve put you above me on the account. ”
“Then that’s another thing that shows their ignorance.
Archer, it’s too late. I don’t want their second thoughts or to be sought after just because the results, data, or the client themselves finally made them see.
Don’t you get it? Someone else had to tell them.
They didn’t trust me. They didn’t believe in me. ”
I drop my head and shake it back and forth. “Come to think of it, neither did you, and you’re my biggest fan.” I move to shut my laptop.
“Erika, wait.”