No Good Deed (Destiny Saga #5) - Chapter 7

For the next week, things were quiet, which I should have known was a sign. If I was honest with myself, I didn’t even consider it for a second. I just relaxed and, for a few days at least, pretended I was a teenager.

Next Step was progressing, and by the end of the week, they’d started building, which was great but didn’t give us a lot to do. Work was almost on autopilot, with a lot of the staff taking off for Christmas, MilTech was dealing with everything on their Navy contract, with only minimal input from us on the technical specs for the desalination system. Even the plant being built in Papua, New Guinea, was progressing without any hiccups.

I’d checked in with Damion once, which was not easy, as we didn’t want to compromise him, but he didn’t have anything for us. I’d made sure he knew that any snooping he did for us, I didn’t want him to put himself in any danger, so it was taking time. The Judge had done his part and, unless the syndicate came back to him for something, there wasn’t much he could do for us.

So, early Friday evening found me curled up on the couch with Tami, reading a book. Something I hadn’t done since recuperating from the gunshot last year. Tami had fallen asleep at some point. I was starting to drift off myself, enjoying the moment, when my cell phone started to ring. I was a little surprised, since we generally didn’t use our cell phones that much. It wasn’t so much because the cost per minute for them was high, since all the girls agreed I made enough money and they were happy to spend it, but more out of habit. I almost always called the house, and they generally called the house, or my office, if they needed something.

I, however, didn’t bother looking at caller ID on the screen, since the only people who had the number were members of our family or a couple of people at work. We hadn’t really mentioned it to anyone at the school since we were noticeable enough without flaunting money around, too.

All that came together to pull me quickly out of my relaxing Friday afternoon, when a voice I didn’t recognize responded to my ‘hello.’

“Is this Caspian Grey?”

I froze in place, hearing the voice, but said: “Who is this?”

“I’m going to take that as a yes. Mr. Grey, my name is Frances Keen. I would like to meet with you soon, about a possible donation to your charitable foundation.”

Her voice sounded like the classic ‘rich person’ voice, stereotyped in movies and television, with careful pronunciation and diction as she spoke. She didn’t sound young, but I didn’t have enough experience hobnobbing with blue bloods to have any guess of age other than a very subjective ‘old.’

“How did you get this number?” I asked, still more concerned how someone I didn’t know managed to call me than with anything this woman had to offer.

“A friend of yours, named Megan, gave it to me.”

“You know Megan?”

“My granddaughter goes, or rather went, to college with Ms. Beck. She suggested you might be of some help with a problem I have, and indicated you are involved in some way with a charitable organization that could use donations.”

“What kind of problem?”

“I believe this is a conversation that would be better to have, person to person, Mr. Grey. I understand you have some kind of an office there in town. Would you be available to meet in the morning? I can be in your town by, say, ten AM.”

I gave it all of two seconds thought; but, as my interest was piqued, I said, “Uhh, yeah. I’m free, and I can meet you at ten. The address is ...”

“I have the address. I will see you then, Mr. Grey. Goodbye.”

With that, she hung up abruptly.

“That was weird,” I said out-loud to no one in particular.

“Whuzat?” Tami said groggily.

“Nothing, baby,” I said, slipping out from underneath her and gently setting her head down on the corner cushion I’d been sitting next to, “just a weird phone call. Go back to sleep.”

I leaned down and kissed her gently on the cheek, getting a sleepy “mmmm” in response, as she curled into a ball and drifted off to sleep. Slipping out of the room, I headed for the kitchen. I found Jawarski with her feet kicked up on another chair, drinking coffee and reading an issue of Cosmo magazine of all things. 

“Cosmo?” I asked, looking at the unexpected magazine.

“Mind your own business,” she said with a glare. “Did you want something?”

Since she’d come on board with Carter and declared herself in charge of my personal security, it seemed she was always around. I didn’t mind, really. While it meant getting sneered at and called an idiot on a regular basis, she meant well, and it wasn’t her fault that she hated me.

Alex had begun to test anti-me treatments that were supposed to counter the effects of my presence on the genetically negative people. As far as I was concerned, it didn’t seem to make her disposition to me any better, but Alex assured me that it was working. She made a good point that continued exposure seemed to make the condition progressively worse. Margaret had been a good example of that, and while Jawarski hadn’t become suddenly nice to me, she also hadn’t gone full psycho on me, yet. So there was that.

“Yeah, something weird just happened. A lady I’ve never met named Frances Keen called me on my cell phone, knew a whole lot about me, and asked for a meeting at my office tomorrow morning.”

“She called you on your cell? Aren't those numbers unlisted?”

“That’s what I thought. She said something about getting my name from Megan, who apparently goes to school with the woman’s granddaughter. She said she wouldn’t tell me what she wanted to talk about, that she wanted to do it face to face. I was about to call Megan, and ask her what this was all about, but I thought you’d want to know.”

“I’m glad you finally did something smart. I want to hear the call with Megan, but let me make a call first.”

She grabbed wall mounted phone and dialed a number.

“Hey, a woman named Frances Keen called Cas on his cell and asked for a meeting. I ... yeah, that’s what I said. Apparently, she got the number from one of his little friends. We’re going to look into it on this end, but could you work up a background on this Keen woman? I don’t want Cas walking into the meeting without us giving her the once over. Okay, thanks, Carter.”

She hung up and turned to me, “Okay, let’s call your little friend.”

Calling Megan my ‘little friend’ was a little insulting to her, and felt like it was insulting to me, but I let it pass. I’d given up on trying to keep Jawarski from dropping casual insults. Instead, I hit the speaker button on the phone and called Megan’s dorm.

“Hello?” said a voice I didn’t recognize,

“Hi, is Megan there?”

“She should be back in a sec. Who’s this?”

“Caspian.”

“The great Caspian Grey?”

“Huh?” I asked. “I mean, that is my name. Well, not the great part, but the rest of it.”

“So what’s your deal? From hearing her talk, you’re like, Einstein crossed with Superman.”

“I’m neither of those.”

“Come on. You’re in high school, right? Like a freshman or something at her old school? Why is she .... heeey.”

That last was said faintly from the background, her voice quickly fading out.

“Sorry about that,” Megan’s voice said, cutting in, “We’ve been planning on muzzling Darci, but haven't found one that can keep her fat trap shut yet.”

I heard what was probably a raspberry being blown at her in the background.

“It’s fine. Although when you come back next week for Christmas, I wanna hear what you’ve been telling people about me.”

“Cas, I haven’t said...”

“I know. I’m teasing you. Listen, the reason I’m calling is 'cause I got this weird call from a woman named Frances Keen, who said she got my cell number from you.”

“Ohh, yeah. I was planning on calling you today and telling you about that. I’m in some classes with her granddaughter, and I'm kinda friends with her, or I was. She disappeared off campus, and her grandmother showed up last week, interrogating me about what she’d been doing. She seemed nice at first, and really concerned, and so I talked to her a while. She said Celia had gotten involved in some kind of designer drug, and become a train wreck. This was, apparently, a relapse, and they’d tried everything, and nothing has worked, and she was terrified that Celia was going to OD in a gutter, somewhere. I don’t know why I did it, but I said I had a friend who could probably fix Celia, thinking about the blood mixing and how it keeps drugs from taking effect.”

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I said.

“I know. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized it was a mistake. But Celia was nice enough when she was sober. I never even saw her high, at least I don’t think I did. And her grandmother was really upset, you know. She asked for your name and information about you, how to get hold of you. I tried to tell it was a stupid idea or that I at least needed to talk to you about it, but she became really insistent. When I still wouldn’t say, she started making threats and, I didn’t know what to do, and ...”

The entire explanation came out in a rush, and her voice started to tremble as she spoke halfway through, until the words became unintelligible, coming out as higher pitched mumbles. It was weird actually. Megan had always been super confident and assured of herself, and I couldn’t remember ever hearing her cry.

“Hey, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. She just knows that I’m involved with a charity, that’s it. We’ll take care of it, from here.”

“Cas, I’m so sorry. I promise I won’t say anything like that again. You know I would never ...”

“I know. It’s fine. Really. We haven’t talked in a while, how’s school?”

We spent the next ten minutes catching up, although she tried to apologize several more times. While I wasn’t thrilled she’d given my name out to someone who, from the sounds of it, was going to be a pain in the ass; it wasn’t even in the same league as some of the boneheaded stuff I’d pulled over the last year or so!

“You need to keep your groupies on a tighter leash,” Jawarski said when I hung up.

“That’s not fair. She screwed up, it happens. Tell me you’ve never let something slip or dropped the ball before? She realized she messed up as soon as she said it, and I don’t think we’re going to have to worry about her doing it again.”

Jawarski made a face, but I knew she wouldn’t yell at Megan. When I wasn’t around, she was apparently a really nice person. She just didn’t like to miss an opportunity to give me shit.

“Well, it’s still going to be a pain in the ass.”

“Probably. I assume you’re going to be at the meeting?”

“Yes. I’m also going to ask Jonathan to be there. From Megan’s description, the woman sounds like an entitled battleaxe, and might end up being a problem.”

“Yeah, that’s not a bad idea.”

“Of course it isn’t, I had it. Now get lost. I need to look into this lady, and you annoy me.”

I rolled my eyes, turned, and walked out of the room to rejoin Tami on the couch. I couldn’t do anything about the woman until tomorrow, or at least until we found out more about her. And a nap with Tami sounded like just the thing to pass the evening.

I must have needed more rest then I thought because when a hand pushed on my shoulder, waking me up, the sun had gone down and the only light was coming from the hallway. Tami, was still asleep, her head resting on my stomach.

“Hey,” Zoe’s voice came from above me, “It’s still early, but how about you two move upstairs so Vicki, Emily and I can join you?”

“Where is everyone else?” I asked, wiping the sleep from my eyes.

While the house wasn’t small by any measure, we had so many people living here now that it was unusual for it to be so quiet before the middle of the night.

“Judy has some kind of Christmas performance thing for school, and Tina, Mom and Mrs. Hollabrand went to see her.”

“Aww, man. How did I miss that? I would'a gone and supported her if I’d known about it.”

“I don’t think she thought it was a big deal. It’s some class-wide performance thing, and she only mentioned it tonight. They decided to let you and Tami sleep.”

“Did they take...”

“One of Carter’s guys went with them. They’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I guess since I apparently have a meeting in the morning, let's go ahead and call it a night. Hey,” I said, shaking Tami. “Wake up sleepy head.”

“When did it get dark?” Tami said sitting up.

“The normal time. You’re just being a bum today and sleeping all afternoon.”

“Don’t blame me. You’re always doing a million things. If I get the chance to curl up and sleep with you, I’m gonna take it.”

“That was our plan, too,” Vicki said, standing behind Zoe and giving Tami a smirk.

“Goodie,” she said, hopping up.

Laughing, I followed the girls up the stairs to our room.

“Hey, Tami, you know your sister is in some kind of school thing tonight, right?”

“Yeah, she told me yesterday, but she said she's just in the background and didn’t care if anyone went. She said if it wasn’t required, she would'a bailed on it.”

I shrugged and headed into our room.

“Okay, so let's get changed for bed, and do this cuddling thing,” I said.

“It’s so cute when he thinks he’s in charge,” Emily said coming around me, grabbing my ass for good measure as she passed.

“Sweetie,” Zoe said, as she and Emily each grabbed a hand and led me to the bed, “‘cuddle’ is a euphemism.”

With that, she pushed me down onto my back. I had barely hit the mattress when I felt my pants being tugged down. I couldn’t see what she was doing however, because Emily had pushed herself on my chest as soon as I was horizontal, leaning in to kiss me.

This was how the girls usually went about things when more than one of us got together at a time. One would keep me occupied, while the other, or others, would have their way with me. I wasn’t sure if it was a conscious strategy on their part or not, but they really liked being in control when we had sex. My two-cent pop psychology guess was because of the way the change affected them, it gave me the power in our relationship. This was a way for them to get it back.

Not that I minded, and not that the pattern ever got boring. One thing about being genetically bonded to four mates, for lack of a better word, was that variety was never in short supply. 

The bed depressed behind me, and I could hear the sounds of Vicki and Tami kissing. Reaching back I found that Tami, who had notably smaller breasts than Vicki, had lost her shirt before joining us. I gave her a soft squeeze, flicking my thumb over the already erect nipple, receiving a moan in response, although if it was in response to something Vicki was doing or what I was doing, I didn’t know.

I was starting to have problems focusing, as Zoe’s warm mouth engulfed me and Emily started kissing me with more vigor. Giving Tami one last squeeze, I slipped my hands under Emily’s shirt, forcing her to back away so I could pull it off her. Using the superpower all women are born with, she reached behind her with one hand and unhooked her bra, pulling it off her shoulders and letting her breasts bounce free.

Tossing it over a shoulder, she leaned back down, pushing her mouth against mine again, while my hands roamed over her skin. I got lost in her lips and felt myself start to tense up under Zoe’s machinations when a hand tugged on my shoulder.

“My turn,” Vicki said, getting a groan from Emily, whose ear I had been biting. “Tami’s got me worked up, and I need it now.”

Emily rolled off me, and Zoe stood up and stretched while I scooted up on the bed. Vicki wasted no time getting what she wanted.

“Uhhh, that’s the spot,” Vicki said in my ear as she seated herself on me and leaned forward, smashing her chest into mine.

For a moment I gave her my entire attention, rising my ass up in time with her bucking hips, getting an ‘oooff’ each time our pelvises mashed together. She hadn’t been lying when she said Tami had worked her up. I was already worked up from Emily and Zoe’s attention. After only a few minutes our pace was ramping up, the sound of flesh slapping into flesh becoming louder.

“Ahhh....goodddd,” she grunted as she came, the words being cut off when she locked her teeth on my neck.

“Gaahhh,” I echoed, the surprise and slight pain pushing me over the edge right after her.

“Biting? Really?” I said as she rolled off me and pulled my arm under her head so she could lie on my shoulder.

“I got lost in the moment,” she said, a smirk in her voice.

“She can sleep, but you have more work to do, mister,” Zoe’s voice said from the other side of me. “Make room.”

Vicki made protesting noises but rolled off my arm, clearing room for Zoe to throw a leg over one side of my head and lowering herself into reach, hands pressed against the headboard for balance. My view was blocked, so I wasn’t sure who, but one of the other girls started working to get me ready to go again. I winced but didn’t complain at the contact with the still sensitive nerves, mostly because at the moment anything I would have said would have been muffled. Thankfully youthful resilience won out, and I was being mounted again in no time.

Zoe started getting into it, her hips thrusting back and forth as she worked herself up to a climax. I focused harder, trying to keep my tongue in contact as she kept moving, making my job harder. Eventually, I was forced to put my hands on her hips and hold her in place as I attacked with gusto. That was all that was needed, and she was howling out her response less than a minute later.

Zoe swung herself off and kissed me hard, her juices flowing between us. Then she rolled over and cuddled up with Vicki, who threw a leg over Zoe in a half sleep response. I could now see it was Emily who’d taking Vicki’s old spot and she must have finished around the same time as Zoe since she was pulling herself off as well and finding a spot on the other side of Vicki.

Tami, who’d been running her hands over Emily when I’d looked up, was now signaling for me to move. I knew what she wanted. The other three liked more energetic forms of sex, but Tami always wanted the same thing. I got up, and she took my spot and opened her legs and arms to me, inviting me in. I lowered myself into her, putting my weight on my elbows and started a gentle rhythm.

“You always wait till last,” I said as I kissed her neck.

“If I let them get theirs they don’t care if I take my time.”

“You know I love you, right?”

“I ... ugghh ... I know. But I love hearing you say it every time.”

I kissed her gently, the way she liked and kept a steady rhythm. Like she said, she liked to take her time, and by now I’d learned what she wanted. The others might like a hard pounding and to have control, but Tami liked it slow, and she liked to be on the bottom. She liked to be whispered to. She liked to be loved. And that’s just what I did.

I was pulled out of my blissful sleep sometime later, with the early light coming in through the windows. Tami was tucked into one side and Emily the other. Vicki and Zoe had both passed out hard and were still wrapped up in the same position they’d fallen asleep in.

It took me a second to get my bearings, when the pounding on the door that had woken me up started again.

“Get up,” Jawarski said in her cop voice through the door.

“Go away,” Emily mumbled sleepily.

“She wouldn’t be yelling if it wasn’t important. Go back to sleep, and I’ll see what she wants.”

I pulled myself out from between Tami and Emily, who rolled together each in part of the spot I had vacated. While all of the girls loved each other, both physically and emotionally, as a side effect of mating with me, Tami and Emily weren’t as close as Emily was with either Zoe or Vicki or as Tami was with Zoe or Vicki. They got along fine, just didn’t spend a lot of alone time together. Seeing them cuddle together now, arms and legs intertwining, made my heart warm, and I spent a second looking down at them until Jawarski pounded on the door again.

“Okay, I'm coming. Keep it down, the girls are sleeping,” I said through the door as I pulled on underwear and a robe.

It might have been meaningless now, considering the racket Jawarski had made, but I quietly left the room, pulling the door silently closed behind me.

“What?” I asked, a little snippier then I intended.

“We might have a problem. This Keen woman is a bigger deal than your phone call led me to believe. She has serious money, and already has a team of investigators looking into you, your company, and Next Step.”

“Really?”

“She apparently comes from old money. Her family got rich back at the turn of the last century and managed to make it through the depression with her fortune more or less intact.”

“Okay, that means her offer to give funding to Next Step is serious. I don’t see the problem.”

“You heard the part about her having investigators looking into you, right? How could that not be a problem?”

“What do you think they’re going to find? Some records somewhere that says ‘this teenager is secretly a genetic freak with the ability to mind control people who come in contact with his blood?’”

“I thought you said it wasn’t mind control.”

“I was being hyperbolic. There’s nothing to find. I’m a kid who came into some money and lucked into owning part of a company. Am I weird? Sure, and that’s what she’s going to find. She’s not going to start thinking there’s a deeper conspiracy there. People don’t normally jump to considering the impossible. You dealt with me a bunch before you came into the know, did you guess the truth?”

“Well, I guessed the weird part.”

“We could use this money. For one, the company can only fund so much; for another, it’d be nice to point to some outside sources of funding. I’ve been thinking of mentioning to the girls to start looking for outside donors already.”

“And how, exactly, are you going to explain this ‘miracle’ cure for addiction?”

I started down the stairs, away from the bedroom door, since this was turning out to be a longer conversation that I had originally expected.

“Well first, we don’t claim it’s a miracle. We need to stay away from proclamations that we can definitely do something, even if we know it’s true. While we know it works, the last thing we want to do, is try and back it up. We don’t promise anything. I’m not even sure we’re going to do this. Let's just hear her out, and see where it goes.”

“I still think this is a bad idea.”

“That’s what I pay you for.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go get dressed. Jonathan’s going to meet us there. And don’t stop to play with your harem, I want to be there when they show up.”

I rolled my eyes and went back up to get dressed. The girls made a few noises about going with me, but I waved them off. Better they should get some sleep.

We did manage to arrive ahead of Mrs. Keen, which thankfully gave me a little time to go over some of the information Jonathan had gathered about her. Sadly, the fact that she and her small entourage also arrived early, limited the amount of study I was able to do on her.

Since it was early no one was in the front office yet, so Jawarski went and brought them in. While I knew from the information Jonathan had put together that she was in her early 70’s, Mrs. Keen was every bit the grand dame. A short well-styled coif of gray hair framed a lined and serious face. The two men accompanying her could have come out of 'central casting.' One was a bookish, hawk-nosed man in a tailored suit that screamed lawyer, who helped her into a chair and then took a seat next to her. The other positioned himself near the door, wearing an ill-fitting suit that barely contained his bulk. I could see Jawarski professionally sizing him up.

“Mrs. Keen, I’m Caspian Grey ...”

“Yes, I am aware of that, young man. And I believe this is your attorney Jonathan Colletta and that would be the one-time police officer turned bodyguard Bethany Jawarski.”

“I see you’ve done your homework on us.”

“Young man, I haven’t gotten where I am today without knowing with whom I’m dealing. Now ... you say you have some way to help my granddaughter. As I said on the phone if you do and your program seems on the up, and up, I’m happy to give a sizable donation to this charity outfit of yours, with the bulk of the donation being after you’ve shown results.”

“Mrs. Keen, I’m sorry but...”

“Son,” the attorney said, cutting me off again, “What we need from you, is a detailed breakdown of what you have to offer and a chance to interview your staff about the program. We’ll also need a list of success cases you’ve previously dealt with.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, standing up. “I think there may have been some kind of miscommunication. I apologize for wasting your time.”

“Young man, I know this comes off as forceful, but we’ve had years of dealing with hucksters. I’m sure you understand this is the way we do things.”

“Like I said, I think we’ve had a miscommunication. I don’t believe I’ve ever once said we have a program for drug addicts, nor requested a donation or payment, nor even contacted you. You called me, and asked for a meeting to talk about your daughter. You were rather insistent and seemed genuinely concerned about her wellbeing. So, I was willing to meet with you, hear you out, and see if there was something I might be able to do to help her.. Since it seems as though we aren’t on the same page, I think it best if we just call it a day here, before I waste any more of what I’m sure is 'your very valuable time.'”

I circled the conference table as I spoke, ending next to the attorney with my arm outstretched, palm open, indicating the door.

“Mrs. Keen, I think it might be best if we ...” the lawyer started to say before she interrupted him.

“No. He’s right, Allan. I called for this meeting, and then came charging in like a bull in a china shop. I do believe we’ve offended our young friend, and gotten off on the wrong foot. I would like to ask one question, young man. Do you think you can help my daughter?”

“Honestly, I don’t know, Mrs. Keen. I’d have to hear more about her situation first. All I can say now, is that I’d be happy to hear you out, if I don’t think I can, I’ll say so and, I will note your research has probably turned up that ‘Son’ and ‘young man’ are not what I go by.”

“Ma’am, I think it best ...”

“No, Allan. Please take Roger, and wait outside. I’d like to stay and talk to Mr. Grey.”

Neither the lawyer nor the bodyguard looked happy about the decision, but neither argued with her.

“You are, of course, correct, Mr. Grey. I should apologize. I have a tendency to charge headlong and take what I want.”

“I got that impression, and I’m betting it works most the time,” I said, sitting in the chair next to her and turning to face her. “And it's 'Caspian', please.”

She gave a smile at that, saying “Not many stand up to me, let alone tell me not to let the door hit my ass on the way out. I’m impressed.”

“I’d like to think I was more tactful than that.”

“Ohh, you were excellent. If you weren’t already wealthy in your own right, I’d try and hire you away to work for me.”

“I appreciate that. Now please, tell me about your granddaughter.”

“Celia’s always been a strong minded girl, even when she was little. Her parents were hard-pressed to keep up with her. She was always getting into things she shouldn’t and convincing the staff to do things for her. Her parents passed suddenly about five years ago, and it hit her hard. I hadn’t spent a lot of time with her at this point, unfortunately. I was mourning my daughter also, and we were in the middle of talks for some new property in Macao. It was a mistake, I will admit, since she didn’t have anyone who wasn’t an employee to lean on. I’d paid for therapy, of course, but I think it’s clear she needs some kind of parental surrogate to help her mourn.”

“I’m sure you did your best,” I offered.

“Caspian, you’ve shown promise so far. Please don’t now hide behind platitudes. It’s important for people in power to acknowledge their own failings and mistakes. It’s something I’ve always lived by, and you should, too. No, this was a mistake. I left a void in her life, and in stepped some elements from her private school that I wish I’d been around to help her avoid. These are the children of people with power and money, but lacking the ability to admit their weaknesses. Their children turn into the people on the news ten years later giving press conferences about how they are entering a clinic.”

“I’d point out that this is the point your daughter is at now.”

“Ha, that’s more like it. Yes, you’re right of course. She ran wild for several years with other children who had wealth and power, and no self-control. There was one abortion I know about, and one OD that I know about. We lost track of her several times, once finding her in a seedy strip motel off Miami Beach, holed up in a crack den.”

“I’m guessing you’ve tried the traditional options?”

“Yes. Sadly, most of the ones where people of status go, tend to introduce them to other substance abusers, rather than help them kick the habit long term. We’ve tried leaving her in jail for a time, lower end clinics, even an aggressive outfit that practically kidnaps them off the street and detoxes them. Even the times she’s gotten clean, she’s managed to slip back.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t understand my granddaughter. I’ve never been an addict myself. In my day, family members who had problems would be shuffled out of the way and left to drink or take pills out of the public eye, with the family hoping they’d just disappear. Had you asked me twenty years ago, I’d have said that is what I would do now. But, with my daughter gone, I find I don’t want to lose Celia. Maybe it's old age talking.”

“Or maybe it’s just that you love her.”

“Perhaps. So your friend indicated you would be able to help her. Why would she say that?”

“Since you’ve looked into my life, I’m betting you know some of the people around me, and some of the things I’ve dealt with. While none have been addicts, several have had serious problems to deal with. Parents in a cult, domestic abuse that led to one parent killing another, or a parent being murdered.”

“Yes, I read about all of that.”

“Well, each had hurdles to deal with, but we were able to help each of them deal with their trauma and find a way to not only survive but start to thrive again.”

“And how did you manage that?”

“It’s not a program. There isn’t one way to deal with it. Each situation was unique, and we dealt with each, as best we could. I know those are generalities, but I can’t really give you specifics. One, because it’s true. There isn’t a set program or a methodic way we helped them. We honestly winged it. And two, because it’s not my place to talk about what they went through.”

“But you were able to help them?”

“Yes.”

“And do you think you could do the same for Celia?”

“Again, honestly? I don’t know. Jonathan and Jawarski here both say I should stay away from other people's problems. That there’s no upside to it.”

“That’s what advisers always say.”

“I am, however, terrible at listening to them, and am not one to stand aside, while someone's in trouble. I can’t promise anything. Hell, I can’t even give you specifics on what I’m going to do since until I meet her and get into the situation, I don't know myself. All I can promise is that I’ll try and help her. If nothing else, I'll return her no worse for the wear if I fail.”

“I see.”

“It’s your decision if you want her to come stay with us for a little while, and see if we can help her. I won’t hold you to any donations if I can’t help; and I, of course, would understand if you choose to go another direction. I know I'm unhelpful and vague, but I am trying to be honest.”

She sat looking at me for what seemed like minutes, but was probably only several seconds.

“I think of myself as an excellent judge of people. Honestly, it’s the one skill I have that's actually helped me succeed. If I were being honest, I’d admit I don’t have very many other options. But I do think you’ll try your best, and you do seem to have succeeded in some rather unique circumstances.”

“I promise I will do everything in my ability to help.”

“Good. Now, of course, there will need to be some paperwork. My people won’t let me just turn over my granddaughter to you and cross my fingers. I’ll make sure they keep it to a minimum, but they will want a non-disclosure agreement at the minimum, and probably some kind of clause in case harm befalls my granddaughter or you brainwash her and try and bring her into some kind of cult.”

I tried not to flinch at that last part. While what she meant by the statement wasn’t in any way a description of my family, the actual words were closer to home that she’d ever know.

“Jonathan can sit down with your people and get it all worked out. I look forward to meeting Celia.”

We exchanged pleasantness and saw them out, with information exchanged between Jonathan and the lawyer. 

I had to sit through quite a lecture from both Jonathan and Jawarski about the mistake I was making, but I knew we’d be able to help. I was able to shut down the scolding by reminding both of them that helping people was the entire point of everything we were doing.

Of course, that all assumed I didn’t screw this up,