Saving Hannah Page 8

  “He can’t possibly—” Thomas started, but Wes held up a hand.

  “He can, and he will. Trust me on this.”

  “How long have you been working with him?”

  “I started at Polytech out of college five years ago as a programmer with the son of the founder. Six months ago I became the personal assistant to the most powerful man in the company. He’s kind, fair, and I get really interesting assignments.” He gestured to Hannah, who pored over the catalog as if there would be a test later.

  “This has been….” Thomas couldn’t even finish the sentence. Overwhelming? A dream?

  “I can’t imagine. But there is one thing I can tell you. He’s happier in these last few days than I’ve seen since I started working for him.” Wes smiled, a kind thing with no trace of pity or disgust. It warmed Thomas that Aleks had surrounded himself with such great people.

  “I just…. He could have just paid me to do the work. He didn’t have to do all this.”

  “A few days ago, he called me into his office and showed me an article he’d printed from the Atlanta Journal-Constitution. It was about a little girl who had cancer and a family who needed money. They were in danger of losing their home. There was a picture in grainy color of you and Hannah. I’d never seen him so… I don’t know, fragile, I think. He asked me to look into your situation and see how he could help anonymously. Then we found out about your other circumstances and he decided he wanted a longer-term solution.”

  “Longer term?”

  “An infusion of cash would only help you for so long, and it wouldn’t help you qualify for a transplant or other long-term treatment. He couldn’t help you anonymously forever, and he does need to know what happened to his father. There are rumors. They don’t like the bad publicity, and they’re looking for a reason to get Aleks out. He holds a majority in stock, so they need something that will break his contract so there’s no messy legal battle. The company is all Aleks really has left of his family.”

  Thomas didn’t know what to say to that. He couldn’t imagine what that felt like. “So, what else does he have in his bag of tricks?” No sense delaying the inevitable.

  “There’s just a note for me,” he said and opened a page of corporate stationery. Thomas could see a handwritten note, but from a few feet away, couldn’t decipher its contents.

  “Yay, shopping!” Wes said with a laugh, confirming any suspicions Thomas had that the man might be gay.

  “You’re going shopping?” Thomas winced, waiting for the answer he knew would come.

  “No, we’re going shopping.”

  “For my pretty dress?” Hannah asked, excitement tracing every word.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Yay, shopping!” Hannah echoed.

  Thomas simply sighed and grinned at his daughter.

  “THIS IS a nice car,” Thomas said as he secured Hannah’s booster seat in the back of the Prius. She looked up at him, warm, like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. He couldn’t wait to see her face light up when they started showing her the pretty dresses.

  “It’s Aleks’s car. He wants you to have it. I’ll Uber back to the office when we’re done, and you can drive it home.”

  “I can’t keep his car,” Thomas said as he closed the door and eyed Wes over the top of it.

  “He said you’d say that and asked me to remind you that he has the Jag and you may need to frequent an internet café or two.”

  “Wes, no offense, but how many other people know about the job I’m going to do for him? It seems like a very poorly kept secret.”

  “Just me and my neatly signed nondisclosure agreement. As for the car, once you’re married, it’ll be half yours anyway. You might as well have it.” Wes shrugged and pulled the handle to open the door.

  “No, it isn’t. He’s going to have me sign a prenup.” Thomas opened his door as well, but neither of them climbed into their seat.

  “I haven’t seen one.”

  “Then he’s an idiot.”

  “I don’t disagree with you,” Wes admitted.

  They held each other’s gaze over the roof of the new-to-him car. For one long moment, they watched each other. A muscle twitched on the side of Wes’s handsome face. He burst into laughter, closely followed by Thomas, and they piled into the car so they could head into the city.

  It took just a few minutes for them to reach the highway, and Wes glanced in the rearview mirror at Hannah. “So, Hannah, what color dress would you like? Do you like pink or maybe purple?” Wes asked, trying to engage Thomas’s daughter, who had been quiet since they’d left the house.

  “It’s a wedding. Don’t girls wear white dresses?” she asked. “In all the princess movies, the girls wear white dresses.”

  “You can wear whatever color dress you want. If you want a white dress, we can find a colorful ribbon for it so you can match your dad, if you want. What color ribbon would you like?”

  “Wait, we’re all going to match? I thought this was going to be an informal thing,” Thomas protested.

  “It is, but you still need to wear a tux.”

  “He’s not buying me a tux.”

  “He wanted to, but I talked him out of it,” Wes said, taking the wind out of Thomas’s fury sails. “We’re going to rent one. Once you’re married, if you need one for events, then you can buy one.”

  Thomas appreciated Wes’s suggestion. The wedding, the money, the gifts—it overwhelmed him. Soon it would overwhelm Hannah, too, and she didn’t need anything else to worry about.

  “So, what are you thinking? Tuxedoes with ties that match Hannah?”

  “Yep, very simple,” Wes replied as he slid over into the left lane to avoid a clump of afternoon traffic.

  “Okay.”

  “We have a wedding planner who is taking care of everything else—the flowers, the cake, the hors d’oeuvres for the small reception after. Aleks gave him a few preferences but otherwise let him loose.”

  “Great.”

  “So, I’ll need a list of people you’d like to invite by tomorrow. The planner has the invitations to the printer, but we’ll need to have the calligraphers address them.”

  “There’s no one, really. Just my mom,” Thomas admitted. “Most of my friends weren’t interested in continuing to be friends with an ex-con. They moved on, and I didn’t see the point of trying to make new ones.” Thomas watched the scenery pass as they came into the city. He didn’t really see the buildings or even the other cars, just his own mistakes glaring back at him in the glass.

  “That’s their loss,” Wes observed and moved over into the right lane to exit the highway. “I thought we could start at Macy’s and see if we can find Hannah a dress. It will be easier to match you to her than her to you.”

  “I’m fine with that. Hannah, are you ready to go looking for a dress?” Thomas asked, turning in his seat to find his daughter asleep.

  “I think she’s excited,” Wes observed with a quiet laugh.

  “Don’t worry, she will be.”

  They reached the mall a few minutes later and parked in a garage near the store, and Thomas reached into the Polytech messenger bag where he’d stored a few things for Hannah. When she saw the mask in his hand, her eyes grew wide.

  “Daddy, I don’t want to wear it,” she said, covering her mouth with tiny hands.

  “I know, baby, but you don’t want to get sick. There are a lot of people here, and any of them could have a cold or worse,” Thomas reasoned, but Hannah didn’t move her hands. She merely shook her head.

  “Honey, if you don’t wear it, we can’t go get you a pretty dress. I really want to go shopping,” Wes said. “And I have an idea. Can we try?”

  Wes’s voice had an earnest quality that pulled at Thomas’s heart when Hannah started to nod. Thomas and Wes got out of the car, and Thomas handed the messenger bag to Wes and opened the back door. He pulled the hospital mask over Hannah’s face and secured the band behind her head, taking care not to pull t
he shadow of her hair. Her huge blue eyes teared up at the corners, but she didn’t cry. Anger swelled up in him—anger at the disease, anger at his helplessness—but he couldn’t let it show. He had to be strong for Hannah.

  “Can I take Lizzy?” Her frightened voice broke his heart.

  “Yes. We’ll just be sure you don’t leave her anywhere.”

  “You guys go ahead and head over to Macy’s. I’ll be right there.” Wes locked the car and jogged off toward another set of stores. Hannah watched him go and then turned sad eyes on Thomas.

  “Let’s go see what kind of dresses they have,” he said, taking Hannah’s hand and squeezing it gently.

  “Squish,” she said and used all her strength to squeeze his hand back. It didn’t hurt, not even close, but he cried out in pain and she giggled. They’d played that game ever since he’d started taking her out. It was the only way he’d found to get her to hold on to his hand and not wander off.

  “Oh, you wanna play, huh?” Thomas squeezed her hand a bit harder, but certainly not enough to hurt. She put Lizzy under her arm, grabbed his hand with both of hers, and squeezed as they stepped up onto the sidewalk in front of the store.

  “Ow, that did hurt,” he muttered and opened the door for her. She laughed as she passed under his arm and into the store. Little sadist.

  He’d never been in this Macy’s before. In fact, he’d never been to a Macy’s before in his life, so he looked up and followed the signs to the girls’ department. Hannah had lost her joking mood as a boy a little older than she was poked his mother and pointed.

  “Really?” Thomas asked, looking pointedly at the mother, who shooed her son off as Hannah moved closer to his leg, hiding her face against the denim.

  “Come on, baby, we’re almost there,” he assured her, rubbing the side of her head with a thumb. They passed the fragrance counter, and Thomas wished he’d had a hospital mask for the smell. He made a quick left through the women’s section, where he felt distinctly awkward at the looks he got for invading their sacred domain. Finally he saw princesses and ruffles. He took Hannah’s hand again and led her into a wonderland of clothes the likes of which Hannah had probably never seen. She’d gotten the nicest shirt she owned as a birthday present from one of the nurses at the hospital where she’d been for the prior three months. It had lace and flowers, and Hannah would only wear it to her oncology appointments.

  Thomas knelt next to Hannah and smiled at her wide-eyed expression. “Ready to look for your dress?”

  She nodded, her eyes never leaving the racks of clothes scattered mazelike around her. Thomas led her to a rack of colored princess dresses. Slim on top, but the skirts exploded in dazzling taffeta color. He moved quickly through the rack, past the ones that weren’t white, until he found a white lace over white dress that kind of reminded him of the doilies his mother used to set around the living room. He held it up to Hannah, who shook her head. Good; he didn’t like that one either.

  Wes came up the aisle, jogging and panting as he pulled a box from the plastic bag on his arm. Thomas couldn’t see the sides of the box, but when Wes opened it and pulled out the contents, he understood. Wes handed a hospital mask to Thomas and then donned one himself.

  “There, now we can all look the same,” Wes said, and it sounded like he was smiling. Hannah threw her arms around his legs and hugged him just as a saleswoman came over to greet them. The sadness in her expression at Hannah’s stubbled scalp told him that she’d give his little girl anything she wanted.

  Thomas smiled more in that hour than in the past year.

  It took a few hours of shopping, eating, and more shopping to find everything they wanted. Hannah couldn’t stop talking about her new dress, which was white and sleeveless on top in slim-fitting satin. A black velvet sash lined the top of the skirt, which flared out into deepening shades of purple. They’d found matching lavender ties in the men’s department, and after pretzels and lemonade, Wes dragged them into the Disney Store. Well, he didn’t have to drag Hannah, whose eyes lit up at the display of Cinderella in the window.

  “It isn’t fair to bring her in here when I can’t afford to buy her anything,” Thomas growled at Wes as Hannah ran from display to display, more excited than she’d ever been about anything.

  “I’ve known Aleks for years. Trust me when I tell you he’ll be thrilled if you pick up a couple hundred dollars’ worth of stuff for Hannah in here.”

  “Are you crazy? I’m not spending a couple hundred dollars of his money.”

  “Look at her, Thomas,” Wes said, his eyes on Hannah. His expression showed his misery about her condition. “I want to buy stuff for her, and I just met her. Do you want me to call him and ask?”

  Thomas watched Hannah finger the face of a large doll, whispering things only a child could imagine. Her tiny finger slid up to stroke its long blonde hair, and Thomas sighed as he glanced down at the dingy stuffed toy in his hand.

  “Okay, but only a few shirts and a doll,” Thomas warned, and Wes skipped off to help Hannah pick out new clothes for her and for the doll they would bring home with them.

  The absolute joy in her face as she and Wes ran from display to display made his heart sing. He snapped a picture while Hannah played, and he sent it to Aleks.

  Thank you for helping the sun peek out of the clouds today. She’s like a different kid. You just made her whole year.

  He watched as the iPhone marked the message as delivered, and then read. Three dots popped into existence for barely a moment before Aleks’s text appeared.

  I hope I can make you just as happy.

  ια͵

  “YOU HAVE to put your helmet on.”

  “Why?”

  “So you don’t get hurt.”

  “But I won’t fall.”

  “Put it on anyway.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I said so.” Thomas loved listening to Hannah play. She didn’t do different voices as she talked for the doll, but the emotions and inflections sounded so serious. Putting on that helmet was a matter of life or death. It also kept Hannah distracted from what would be happening later that day. “You can play with the scooter, but you have to wear the helmet.”

  The sound of plastic rolling along the table meant that the doll had indeed donned the helmet Wes had added to the pile of toys on their little shopping adventure. Before Thomas really knew what was happening, he signed the credit card receipt for the clothes and toys Wes and Hannah picked out. He’d sent a text to Aleks on the way home apologizing for the charge, but Aleks had waved him off with an emoticon. Apparently a couple hundred dollars didn’t warrant a place on Aleks’s radar. A couple hundred dollars would have fed them for a month or two.

  His cell phone rang, and Thomas looked down at it.

  Crap. “Hey, Gerry.”

  “I hear you’re getting married.”

  Crap. Crap.

  “How the hell could you possibly know that?”

  “I work for the FBI.”

  “So, what, you’re—”

  “And your mother told me.” Gerry laughed.

  “So you’re friends with my mom now?”

  “We have a mutual interest in keeping you out of trouble.”

  The line went quiet while the words sank deep into him. It meant something, but Thomas didn’t want to figure out what just then. He had a lot on his mind.

  “Yes, I’m getting married,” Thomas admitted.

  “Congratulations. I hear he’s quite a catch.”

  Thomas switched the phone to his other ear. “Why did you call, Gerry?”

  “I just wanted to make sure you were okay, to be honest. This marriage seems rather sudden.”

  Thomas sighed and sank deeper into the couch. “I’m not going to bullshit you. He’s a friend from college and he wants to help Hannah. Marrying him will give her the insurance she needs.”

  “You do what you gotta do to keep your kid safe.” Gerry had always been a pragmatist, much like Thomas’s mot
her.

  “You’re the first person to tell me that.”

  “I know what real shit goes down in the world. It’s not a perfect place. You make do with what you got.”

  “Amen to that,” Thomas agreed.

  “So you’re staying out of trouble, then?” He had an edge to his voice that gave Thomas a sick, guilty feeling in his stomach. Gerry couldn’t know about his work for Aleks. He’d been very careful.

  “You know me,” he hedged.

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Yes, I’m staying out of trouble.” He kept his voice even.

  “That’s all I ask.”

  “That’s all, huh?” Thomas mused.

  “Well, that and you taking care of your girl.”

  “I’m doing my best.”

  “That you are.” Gerry’s voice held a warmth Thomas wasn’t sure he’d heard before.

  Thomas considered, for an infinitesimal moment, inviting Gerry to the wedding. Then he decided he didn’t need the ghosts of his past showing up when he’d already have enough stress.

  They said goodbye, and the sick feeling lessened. It didn’t go away, but he could bear it just then.

  Thomas hung up the phone and went in search of his mother. He found her upstairs in the bathroom, finishing up her hair. It had been years since Thomas had seen his mother in makeup. She didn’t wear it to work. She said she’d rather use the money for food than to look pretty for people who didn’t pay her what she was worth.

  “You called an FBI agent and told him I was getting married?” he asked from the doorway. He tried to quell the anger in his voice but only partially succeeded.

  She glanced at his reflection in the mirror and then ran the brush through her hair one last time. After setting the brush in a basket near the sink, she turned to face him. “You’re taking my granddaughter from me and moving her in with a guy that up until a week ago, you hadn’t seen in ten years. Forgive me for being concerned.”

  “How do you even know Gerry Sorenson?”

  “He came to talk to me right after you were released, said he thought you got more time than you’d deserved since you were just trying to expose something bad happening at the company. He wanted to keep tabs and try to help you if he could.” She put her hands on her slim hips, made slimmer by the cut of her dress.