Who Am I? Read online

  The man returned and opened the door wider, but his expression was no more inviting than before. “Mr. Johnson will see you now.”

  After Gerome entered the circular two-story foyer, the butler closed the door behind him, then led him down the hallway toward Herman’s office. Their footsteps on the marble floor echoed in the tomblike quietness. Everything looked the same inside the house. But he felt as if hidden eyes were watching. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

  Something isn’t right.

  ❧

  “Come in, Jerry my boy.”

  Gerome complied with Herman Johnson’s directive, standing still while his stepfather gave him a shrewd once-over.

  “What a surprise. I wish you’d let me know you were coming.” Herman’s eyes widened slightly, then hardened before a mask dropped over his features. “What can I do for you?”

  Gerome knew he’d achieved the impression he wanted. He hunched his shoulders and shoved his hands into his front pockets, waiting until the new servant was out of earshot behind the closed door. This room was almost soundproof—nothing could be heard through that thick door unless someone had his ear pressed against the keyhole. Gerome had done that often enough in times past.

  “I was wondering if you need another handyman around the place.” He tried to keep a lazy expression on his face as he took in his stepfather’s appearance. He’d aged considerably in the years since Gerome had been home. Somehow, he looked shriveled, sitting behind his massive desk in a pin-striped suit, but his intelligent eyes held the same spark they always had.

  “If you need money, I’d be glad to write you a check.” With a resigned sigh, Herman reached toward one of the desk drawers.

  “No. I really want to work for what I get. You taught me that lesson.” Gerome knew he had said the right thing when a faint smile flitted across Herman’s face.

  “What if I don’t need anyone else working here?” His stepfather studied him through squinted eyes.

  This was a test. “Then I’ll just look elsewhere.”

  The older man’s smile returned. “Well said. Actually, most of my help have gone on to other positions, so some things aren’t getting done. I’d like to have you work for me.” He gave Gerome another piercing gaze that softened at the end. “It’ll be good to have you home again, Jerry.”

  Gerome dropped into one of the leather chairs across the desk from Herman. “I’d rather no one knows about our relationship. They might feel uncomfortable around me when I’m working.”

  Herman slowly swiped his hand across his mouth and chin, a habit he’d always had when thinking. “Maybe you’re right. Most of the people who are in the house now weren’t here when you and your mother lived with me. But won’t they wonder when I have the housekeeper get your old room ready for you?”

  “How about I stay in the servants’ quarters out back?”

  After a pause, Herman asked, “Are you all right, Jerry?”

  “Yeah. I just need a place for some downtime and to make a little money.”

  Herman’s gaze traveled over his worn clothing, shaggy hair, and unshaven face. “Okay. I’ll have Prudence put you on the payroll.”

  Three

  When Arlene drove her Honda into the driveway, Leiann was already packed and ready to go. After making one last walk through the house, she set three pieces of luggage beside the front door.

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Am I doing the right thing? The arrangements for the trip had taken only a week. Was she ready for this?

  Before her friend could ring the bell, Leiann opened the door. “Thank you for driving me to the airport.” She started pulling the two larger bags toward the car, leaving the carry-on for Arlene.

  “You know I’m glad to do it.” Arlene popped the lid of her trunk and helped Leiann lift in one of the large suitcases. “This is heavy. What do you have in it?”

  Leiann brushed at a strand of hair that tickled her forehead. “Since I’m not sure how long I’ll stay, I put in a few books. Maybe I can catch up on my reading.”

  With the luggage stowed in the trunk, Arlene slammed it closed. She crossed her arms and turned toward Leiann, a serious expression on her face. “I’d be glad to go with you.”

  “I know, but this is something I have to do on my own. Besides, I need you to make sure everything is okay here at the house while I’m gone.” Leiann rubbed the muscle above her eye that had started jumping. Usually the movement was barely discernable, but she always felt like it was a huge, ugly tic. “Just be sure to keep your cell phone close by.”

  Once they were in the car, Arlene backed out and headed west. “So, how did your meeting with Mr. Malone go?”

  “He understood my need to go on this trip.” Leiann almost cried remembering the concern in her principal’s eyes. “He knows how hard things were during Mother’s battle with breast cancer before she. . .” She blinked away her tears. “I can’t believe it took her so quickly.”

  “Me either. But at least now she’s not in pain.”

  Even coming from her best friend, the words sounded trite, and they didn’t bring any comfort. “Mr. Malone said that since it’s only a month until the end of school, he’d get a sub to finish the year for me. I’m really relieved. I was dreading all the sympathetic glances from students. Maybe I’ll be better able to cope when the fall semester starts.”

  As they drove along Mid-Cities Boulevard, Arlene kept up a stream of casual conversation. Even though Leiann wasn’t really into what her best friend talked about, she enjoyed having her familiar voice as a background to her own turbulent thoughts.

  When they arrived at the terminal at Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport, both women worked to extract the bags from the back of the sedan.

  “How are you set for money?” Concern wrinkled Arlene’s forehead.

  “I’m fine. After Mr. Connor, Mother’s lawyer, read the will and handed me her letter, he gave me an envelope of cash from my. . .grandfather.” Leiann knew the word sounded bitter; it tasted that way, too. “I decided that if Mr. Johnson wanted me to come see him, I’d let him pay for it. Mr. Connor booked the flight, and he got me a seat in first class. That’ll be a new experience.”

  Leiann hugged her friend good-bye, then checked in. It didn’t take as long as she’d anticipated. After going through security, she had a lot of time to kill. Feeling too nervous to sit still, she walked up and down the terminal, dragging her carry-on. She’d probably be glad she’d exercised when she sat during the three-and-a-half-hour flight.

  She stopped at Starbucks and bought a decaf frozen mocha latté. As hyper as she felt right now, Leiann knew she didn’t need any caffeine, but she wanted the comfort of her favorite treat. On the way back to her gate, she noticed a cute T-shirt in one of the shops. Might as well spend the extra time shopping. She could afford a few indulgences.

  With her purchases scrunched into an outside pocket of the carry-on, she sat down near her gate and waited for the departure announcement.

  On the flight, even though she was in first class, Leiann couldn’t enjoy all the pampering by the flight attendant. Between the servings of food and soft drinks, her mind kept revisiting her plight. Every minute of her life had been a lie. All those hours spent with her father. . .stepfather. . .Milton, a lie. She’d loved her dad. Enjoyed spending time with him, being his special daughter. How could he not tell her that he wasn’t her biological father? Why didn’t he tell her the truth after his heart attack? Why did he have to lie to her all his life?

  The mother she had loved and trusted had lived the lie, too. After Milton died, why didn’t she tell Leiann the truth? When she had breast cancer, she knew her daughter would find out after she was gone. She could have prepared her for the truth. But she went to her grave still clinging to the lie.

  And God had let it happen, too. All the subterfuge. People who should have loved her had played games with her life. How could the God she’d grown up loving let her live
a life built on a lie?

  When the pilot announced that they were approaching Logan Airport, Leiann moved into the empty seat beside her so she could look out the window. The countryside was greener, the buildings closer together than back home. After crossing what had to be downtown, the airplane circled out over water.

  She had pictured the airport somewhere outside Boston in open country, much like DFW. Instead, the runway ended at the edge of an island. Her heart jumped into her throat. She could almost feel the plane hitting the water. Leiann held her breath and took a death grip on the leather armrest. She didn’t release either until they were safely on solid ground.

  God, I feel abandoned and alone. And I don’t even know who I really am. Why have You taken everything I know and love away from me?

  She listened, but no voice answered either question. Just as well. She didn’t know if she could still trust the God she’d grown up with. All of her life had been a lie. What part did He have in that?

  When her feet hit the industrial-grade carpet of the terminal, she turned on her cell phone and called Arlene. “I’ve landed.”

  “Are you doing okay?” Her friend’s sensitive words reached that hurting place deep inside.

  “So many thoughts are jumbled in my head.”

  “Try to push them aside.” Arlene’s voice took on a tender tone. “I can come if you need me.”

  “And leave Mr. Malone to find another substitute? I don’t think so.” Leiann tried to sound cheerful. “I’ll be all right, at least until school is out.”

  “Call me if you need to.”

  After assuring Arlene that she would, Leiann snapped her cell phone shut.

  Mr. Connor had told her someone would meet her where she picked up her bags, so she made her way through the airport to baggage claim. There she found a man in a dark navy uniform and cap holding a sign with her name on it. He noticed her staring at him and moved toward her.

  “Are you Miss Hambrick?” His voice sounded pleasant enough.

  She nodded.

  “Mr. Johnson sent me. After we retrieve your bags, I’ll have you home in a jiffy.”

  Home? The man was treating her like she was one of the family.

  Then it hit her. Mr. Johnson must be wealthier than she had imagined if he had his own driver.

  “Are you his chauffeur?”

  The man smiled and nodded. “I’ve been with Mr. Johnson for over twenty years. My father worked for him, too.”

  Leiann turned toward the baggage carousel, scanning each piece as it appeared so she could grab hers when they first came out. The chauffeur took both her checked bags out the door. She followed, lugging the carry-on.

  He stopped beside a black limousine. She’d never been in one, not even for the funeral. This vehicle was a far cry from her five-year-old Kia. At least it wasn’t one of those long stretch limos.

  Feeling much like Dorothy when the tornado took her from the Kansas farm, Leiann stopped for a moment to let her mind settle. One of the reasons she’d agreed to this trip was to make some connection to her real heritage. . .or at least find out what it was. Everything was happening way too fast.

  The driver put her bags in the trunk, then opened the back door for her. Leiann didn’t want to sit back there alone, but he probably wouldn’t understand if she asked to ride up front with him. She climbed in.

  The car slipped into a tunnel that took traffic from Logan into Boston. Even with the lights along the sides of the interior, she felt closed in.

  Realizing how tired she was, she leaned her head against the back of the plush leather seat and closed her eyes for just a moment. For years, she’d thought of visiting the East Coast and some of the important historical sites in the Boston area. Maybe she’d be here long enough to do that.

  “Miss Hambrick.”

  The words woke her from her nap. She glanced toward the open car door.

  “We’ve arrived.” The chauffeur held out his hand.

  She took it and slid from the comfortable leather seat. She’d missed the drive through Boston. They were somewhere in the country now. “I never did ask your name.”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “What is it?”

  “Greene, Miss. Forrest Greene.” A chuckle followed his pronouncement.

  She laughed, too. “That’s some name.”

  “I don’t mind, though it was sometimes a problem when I was a lad.”

  She glanced at the tall trees gracing the lawn as she moved toward the back of the car. Mr. Johnson must have a whole team of groundskeepers. “May I get my bags now?”

  He pulled on the bill of his hat. “Someone will take them up to your room for you.”

  Of course Mr. Johnson would have servants to do things like that if he had a chauffeur. Leiann took a deep breath and turned toward the house. Tall marble columns reached to the roof of the porch above the second-story balcony. The opulence almost overwhelmed her.

  The front door of the mansion opened, and a woman came out. She was dressed in a crimson suit expertly tailored to her willowy form, making Leiann feel dowdy and dull.

  “Miss Hambrick, I’m Prudence Smith, Mr. Johnson’s administrative assistant.”

  What an old-fashioned name for such a modern-looking woman.

  “He wants to see you right away.” The woman whirled back toward the house so fast her sleek chin-length hair riffled in the wind. Leiann had to walk fast to keep up. She wondered how she moved so quickly in those heels. They had to be more than three inches high.

  They hurried through a large foyer and down a long hall, stopping outside a closed door. Leiann didn’t get a chance to take in much of the surroundings, but the feeling of great wealth seeped into her consciousness.

  Prudence opened the door to allow Leiann’s entry, then closed it behind her.

  A man on the other side of a large carved desk stood. “Leiann! We finally meet.” The kindness in his voice pulled her toward him a few steps.

  She didn’t know what to say. So she just stood and studied the man. Snow-white hair framed a face lined with deep grooves, and his bright blue eyes held a sparkling vitality. His stooped posture spoke of long years. He had to be older than she had thought he would be, maybe even in his eighties. Leiann didn’t know what she expected to feel when she met him—maybe some kind of unspoken connection. But nothing came.

  “You look a lot like your mother, but you have your father’s eyes.”

  The quiet words went straight to her heart. Finally, a distinct connection. She’d often wondered why her eyes weren’t like either her mother’s or her father’s.

  “I wouldn’t know.” She bit off the last word. Leiann didn’t want to antagonize the man right from the start, but she was having a hard time understanding everything that swirled inside her. “I’m sorry. The trip was long, and I’m tired.”

  He walked around the desk and approached her. “I’m sure you are, so I won’t keep you. I just wanted to see you. We can talk later.” His words continued to hold kindness. “I’ll have Pru take you up to your room. I’ve given you one on the second floor that overlooks the back gardens. I hope the view will bring you some peace.”

  Leiann didn’t want him to touch her, and he must have instinctively understood that. But his eyes probed every part of her, making her feel even more vulnerable. How did he know that she needed peace?

  He leaned across the desk and depressed a lever. “Please come in here, Miss Smith.”

  His assistant entered with a smile. “Yes, Mr. Johnson?”

  “I want you to take my granddaughter to her room.”

  She glanced at Leiann, then turned back to the man. “I’ll be right back in case you need anything else.” She stood beside the open door, waiting for Leiann to exit.

  This time, as they walked down the hallway, Leiann went slower so she could study her surroundings. This house had the feel of old money. The knickknacks on several pieces of polished wood furniture appeared to be priceless treasures. Most look
ed like museum pieces. Her shoes sank so deep in the thick carpet that the ends of her toes disappeared into the fibers.

  When she arrived in the bedroom suite, she found a maid unpacking her bags. The door to a private bath stood open, and the young servant arranged Leiann’s toiletries on mirrored trays on a marble counter.

  “I can do that.”

  Prudence frowned. “She’s only doing her job.”

  Leiann nodded, and Prudence left. Leiann smiled at the young woman, who was now hanging up her clothes. “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Charity Gilcrest, ma’am. Mr. Johnson said I would be your personal maid while you’re here.” She curtseyed as if Leiann were royalty.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  Leiann took off her light jacket and laid it on the bed. Charity picked it up and hung it in the walk-in closet. Leiann’s bedroom back home was smaller than that closet.

  “Would you like me to turn back your covers so you can rest?”

  The thought of having a maid to turn down her bed unnerved Leiann. But she certainly did feel the need for some rest.

  ❧

  Leiann awoke in the late afternoon to find a tea tray on the bedside table. Someone had been in her room while she slept. Surely Charity had brought the food in. She bristled at the idea of anyone prowling around her while she slept.

  When she removed the cozy from the teapot, she breathed in the pungent aroma of orange and spices. After savoring a couple of the sugar cookies along with the tea, Leiann felt refreshed.

  She glanced around the room, wondering what changes the next few days would bring to her life. She wished she’d let Arlene come with her. Her best friend would enjoy spending time in this mansion, and having her around would keep Leiann from feeling so alone. She wondered why Mr. Johnson had gone to so much trouble to make sure she came here. What could he have to say to her that was so important?

  Leiann put on clean clothes, walked to the large window, and pulled open the drapes. The peaceful view stole her breath. She opened the French doors and stepped out onto the balcony. Fresh air carried the mingled fragrances of flowers.