Don't You Forget About Me by Suzanne Jenkins Read Free Book Online Page A

“Yes,” back to Mildred.
    They met in the hallway leading to the kitchen.
    “Sir,” Mildred began, “we in the kitchen think you should know that finances here have reached a critical point. We haven’t been paid in over a month, and there is no money for food or to pay the bills we normally take care of, for the gardener, or for gas for the car.” She stopped, looking him right in the eye.
    “I thought my sister-in-law was taking care of money while I was gone,” he said. Then he remembered, just that morning, Anne saying Sandra was giving Bernice money. He could feel his face turning red, his blood pressure going up rapidly. “This is news to me.” He was looking off into space. What the hell am I going to do now? I don’t have a penny. That goddamned Pam!
    Mildred was waiting patiently, but wasn’t going to budge until he gave her some answers.
    “Let me look into it, okay? Can you and the others hold on for a few more days?” He knew that he needed some finesse right now, a commodity not normally used in a prison cell. Did he even remember how to charm?“Thank you so much for not jumping ship, Mildred! I appreciate it so very much! I’ll get back to you, okay?” He took her hand and patted it.
    She immediately went into the bathroom and washed it off.
    Bill stood in the hallway for a few minutes, collecting himself. He was at a total loss for what the next move should be. He knew that anger wasn’t going to get him anywhere; it was too late for that. He had to be honest with his mother, and he supposed Sandra as well. Something had to be done, right that afternoon, probably asking Sandra or Pam for money. They didn’t need to keep the staff on, but he wasn’t going to do anything rash. He was beginning to think he made a mistake getting out of jail early.
    Walking back to the den, he could hear pleasant conversation between his mother and Sandra. It was totally against everything he knew to bring up any unpleasantness during a meal. He would have to take a stand and be strong for once. And he had to control his temper. It had landed him in hot water with his brother and look where that lead. Both women looked up when he walked into the room. He decided to just say it.
    “Mother, the staff hasn’t been paid in over a month.” He sat down with a thud.
    Bernice’s hand was poised over the serving spoon, ready to scoop up a puffed pastry shell full of chicken and place one on each plate. Her hand hovered over the spoon. “That’s nonsense. I paid them myself, I am sure of it. What a thing to bring up during lunch, in front of our guest!” She reached for the spoon, ignoring Bill.
    “Mother, listen to me. Put the spoon down and listen. We are broke. We don’t have the money to pay your staff, or to pay for food, or to buy gas for the limousine.” He waited, and Bernice continued to dish up lunch. Bill reached over his mother and gently took the spoon out of her hand. “You are going to face this right now,” he said firmly. The dialogue was giving Sandra a glimpse into why people lost their temper with Bernice. She could be obstinate. “We have a choice. We can ask Pam,” and then he turned to look at Sandra, “or we can ask you,” he said, directing his comment to her. “You benefited by my brother’s death.” He raised his hand when she began to protest. “Not intentionally, but you did. Let’s face the facts here. My brother was pissed off at me because I failed to live up to his work ethic.”
    Sandra had to admit that was probably true. Bill wasn’t dynamic. He was weak. But that may not have been entirely his fault.
    “We were desperate for his help and he gave it to us. He gave Mother a generous stipend for the year after my father died. You knew that. He promised me that he would field clients my way. And now you haven’t honored his intentions.” Bill sat down at the table, across from Sandra. He fought back tears. “When I learned that he willed his business to you, I