Page 88 of Forecasting the Forward

“I didn’t mean it like that!” I protest with a laugh. “What if they offered you a contract for a lot less than you make now?”

“Hmm. I don’t know. I’d have to think about it. Usually a contracted amount directly correlates to how valuable the team thinks you are, so if they offered me something significantly less, I’d assume they also didn’t feel I would bring anything to the team.”

“I think this is where I’d really give my opinion,” I state firmly. “If you don’t feel like an asset, you won’t enjoy the time with the team. I just want you to find joy.”

He gives me a sweet smile. “I know you do, darlin’. I’m pretty damn lucky that you bring me more joy than I can handle.”

My phone vibrates in my pocket, jarring me out of our conversation. Seeing another private number, I turn the phone completely off and throw it into my bag.

“What was that?” Jacob asks, surprise evident in his tone.

“Oh, probably my mother calling with another guilt trip about my brother. Oh, I guess that’s not accurate. She’s my step-mother.”

“What the fuck?” Jacob seethes. “What have I missed here?”

I quickly explain what my brother said yesterday, and then the phone call with my mother only a few minutes ago. “In hindsight, this explains so much. I always felt like she didn’t truly love me, but I couldn’t understand why. Here she was, tasked with raising a child that her husband created out of wedlock. I can’t imagine that was easy for her.”

“Becca, I swear to ever loving God, you better not give that woman even one ounce of sympathy. Her husband cheating on her was not your fault. The fact that she took it out on you is ridiculous. She treated achildlike shit because she was mad at her husband.”

“It doesn’t matter now. I told her I wouldn’t trade any favors for my birth mother’s name, and that was that. As long as she and Rodney leave me alone, I’m happy to move on.”

“Oh, I’m gonna guarantee they leave you alone,” Jacob says as we pull into the porte cochère in front of the hotel. “I’ll call the investigator tomorrow to get an update.”

“It’s such a surreal thing to have your husband hire a PI to research your family,” I muse with a shake of my head.

“I’m sure it is, darlin’. Your dad and brother were into some shady shit. With your dad being gone, everything is gonna fall on your brother. He’s going away for a long time, baby.”

“What were they involved in?”

“So far, my PI has found bribery, falsifying documents, forgery, tax evasion, some kind of prostitution ring, and insider trading.”

“Prostitution?” I shout.

“That’s what you picked out of that sentence? I thought you’d have questioned the insider trading. That one involves your mom — I mean, step-mother — so she might go to prison too.”

I pause, thinking about the uppity woman and how appalled she’d be in gen pop of a women’s prison. “I really love this for her.”

He smirks. “I figured you would.”

Jacob

Two YearsLater

My private investigatormade his money’s worth with Becca’s family. Some white collar criminals are impressive with how they cover their tracks. Then there are people like her family, who left one hell of a paper trail for every illegal thing they did. By the time all was said and done, Rodney Junior received a sentence of fifteen to thirty years in prison, while his dear mother received ten to twenty years.

I only know of their sentences because I kept up with their trials. My wife wrote them off the moment we left Miami, and never mentioned them again. She made peace with her lack of biological family. Only after my investigator found her original birth certificate were we able to piece together the first few months of her life.

Becca’s mother, Tina, struggled immensely attempting to raise Becca on her own. Contrary to what Becca’s step-mother suggested, Tina did not ask for money. She had loved Rodney Senior, and innocently hoped Rodney would come to his senses and leave his wife for her and Becca. When that didn’t happen, Tina fell into a deep depression. She lost her job, was evicted from her apartment, and could no longer afford any of the necessities of raising an infant. In a moment of intense despair, she left Becca on Rodney’s doorstep, and intended to return for Becca once she established herself again.

Unfortunately, Tina never returned. The PI tracked her to Detroit, where she seemed to disappear. A death record showed Tina passed away from complications due to breast cancer when Becca was around fifteen.

Becca mourned the mother she never knew, but found peace knowing Tina was no longer suffering in any way. It took some time, however, and I worry what I’m about to tell her will set her back again.

“Baby?” I call as I enter our apartment. It’s been two years since I met Becca Stephens, and not a day goes by that I’m not thanking God for putting me in Becca’s path.

“With the pigs!” she shouts. We lost Rose and Daffodil to guinea pig old age, and I find Becca, more often than not, hanging with the remaining four. I never knew how traumatizing an animal dying would be, and I certainly never knew the average lifespan of a guinea pig was so damn short.

“Hey,” I tell her as I stride into the room. Thunder now has a large dog bed in the corner, content to watch the pigs. All it took was Dahlia biting him once and he never chased another pig again. Placing a brief kiss on Becca’s forehead, I squat next to her, pulling a small rodent box from behind my back. “I have a present for you.”

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