Minnie Chase Makes a Mistake (32 page)

‘Are you sitting down?’

‘I’m horizontal.’

‘It’s officially a viral news post. The lesbian love triangle scandal is a trending topic around the world.’

Minnie groaned and pulled her pillow over her head.

‘How long?’ she asked muffled.

‘At least 24 hours of commentary and then it should blow over.’

Minnie set her phone on Silent mode and lay on the bed as though she had rigor mortis. Minutes passed then she quickly went online, saw the photographs, read the hundreds of comments and then pulled the covers over her head. Bachmann, surprisingly, hadn’t contacted her. Jackson hadn’t called. James George hadn’t even attempted to send a reassuring text. By late afternoon, Minnie decided that no one calling her was worse than someone actually calling. Minnie had never felt more alone. She didn’t even dare go out to the diner. There was nothing to do but wait until it was time to leave to go to the airport. 

She communicated only with Angie who was on hand, once again, to pick up the pieces. Around 4pm Minnie’s eyes were starting to close when there was an abrupt knock on the door. This time, Minnie was sure it had to be Jackson. She wrenched the door open without a second thought, not worrying that it might be someone who wanted a quote about the acting mayor of San Francisco.

‘Oh,’ said Minnie, astonished. It wasn’t Jackson. Neither was it a journalist.

‘Hello, Miranda,’ said Greene. He wasn’t alone and it wasn’t a Dragonet by his side.

Greene, as ever, looked handsome and immaculate in a sharply tailored suit. Bachmann looked unrecognisable. She wore no make-up. Her magnificent halo of golden hair had been tightly scraped back into a ponytail. The signature roaring red Democrat dress had been replaced with jeans and a plain white T-shirt. She looked remarkably fresh-faced and about 10 years younger. 

‘Is that you?’ asked Minnie blinking.

‘It’s me,’ confirmed Bachmann rolling her eyes. ‘Ashton insisted on a low-key visit.’ She walked around Minnie and into the room. ‘Show me to the mini bar, darling.’

Minnie pointed to some warm bottled water on the table. 

‘Oh, right,’ said Bachmann, wrinkling up her nose, glancing around the room at the functional furniture and wildly patterned curtains.

‘May we come in?’ said Greene who was still standing at the doorway.

‘Yes, do. Please. Of course.’ Minnie was still in shock at seeing them together. 

Bachmann sat on the desk. Minnie offered Greene the only chair; when he insisted on standing, Minnie slid onto it, perching on the edge of her seat.

‘We have a little situation, darling,’ said Bachmann, getting straight to the point.

Minnie nodded. ‘I’m aware of the photographs. I’m so sorry.’ She genuinely was. To be at the centre of a lesbian love triangle scandal might work for some but not a private man like Greene. 

‘This is not your fault,’ said Greene. He sounded curt but looked reasonably calm.

‘We know you’ll want to set the record straight, um, pardon the pun,’ added Bachmann smoothly, ‘but instead of issuing a denial, we were wondering how you would feel about saying nothing at all.’

Minnie stared at Bachmann. ‘No comment?’

‘It is a suggestion,’ said Greene. ‘This situation concerns your reputation, too.’ He looked pointedly at Bachmann who smiled sweetly at him.

‘I have no wish to speak to the press,’ said Minnie. ‘It’s probably 24 hours of commentary and then it should blow over.’

‘About that,’ said Bachmann. 

‘Parker is not going to comment on the photographs either,’ explained Greene. ‘We are, however, going to officially announce our separation, which means the commentary might run and run.’

‘The timing is right,’ added Bachmann. 

‘The timing is
right
?’ said Minnie, addressing them both. ‘The timing will look as though you’re calling off your engagement because Bachmann and I are…oh…’ her voice trailed away as she realised what the game plan was. ‘I see.’ 

‘Are you okay about this?’ asked Bachmann.

‘I’m not sure,’ said Minnie. Bachmann put the same question to Greene.

‘It’s not the perfect break-up,’ he answered, ‘but it will do.’

Minnie felt an ache of sadness. She realised that Greene was a proud and private man who would rather stand by an insubstantial explanation than reveal the truth – that someone didn’t want him. It wasn’t about lesbians or Parkinson’s, it was about not getting hurt. 

‘I’m not going to lie,’ said Minnie. ‘I’m still getting married.’

‘Here comes the bride,’ said Bachmann saluting. ‘No one is suggesting otherwise.’

‘I’m still committed to Parkinson’s Greene,’ said Greene reassuring Minnie. ‘I just don’t want people to think that the wedding is off because I have a degenerative neurological disorder – it’s bad for business. And what message does that give out to other sufferers?’

‘It’s a gift, darling, don’t you see?’ said Bachmann breathlessly. ‘I’ve been propelled into the heart of this wonderful city’s thriving gay community. I’m an overnight poster girl for same-sex relationships. I’m feminist friendly and sociably liberal. I’m trending again. Voters, yay!’

‘We are a united front,’ explained Greene, inclining his head towards Bachmann, ‘which is good for business and politics.’

‘May I speak freely?’ asked Minnie.

‘Nothing appears to have stopped you in the past,’ said Greene with a hint of a smile.

‘It’s not about voters, it’s about people.’

‘Understood,’ said Bachmann.

‘I won’t comment on the photographs because I want to show my support not distance myself from the situation,’ said Minnie firmly. ‘I’ve read enough comments as there is and most seem to be horribly offensive remarks about gay people.’

Bachmann nodded. ‘Sad but true.’

Minnie turned to both of them and said, ‘If you’re going to do this, do it right.’ 

‘Honesty and activism, promise,’ said Bachmann placing her hand over her heart. 

Greene nodded and indicated to Bachmann that it was time to go.

‘Please call my driver. He will take you to the airport,’ said Greene.

‘Thank you,’ said Minnie.

‘You’re welcome.’ 

‘Are you okay?’ Minnie asked Greene as everyone headed to the door.

‘No, he is absolutely
not
okay,’ huffed Bachmann, hijacking the question. ‘He has this ridiculous notion that we should eat at the diner across the road.’

‘I skipped lunch,’ answered Greene coolly.

Bachmann kissed Minnie goodbye and marched down the corridor while still talking to Greene. ‘Seriously, darling, it’s not your kind of place; other people actually eat there. It’s a
diner
for heaven’s sake – home of unsaturated fats, gluten and super-sized milkshakes. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

Greene looked back over his shoulder and smiled at Minnie. She smiled at him and then quietly closed the door.

Greene and Bachmann parted amicably after their visit to the diner. An entire evening stretched ahead so Greene had returned to the office. He was now sitting at his desk absorbed in work. He was nine months ahead of schedule, which was a good feeling for someone who was determined to make up for lost time.

Meredith Lockhart, his assistant, popped her head around the door. ‘Someone’s made a donation to the Parkinson’s Greene Foundation.’

‘Good. That’s the general idea,’ said Greene dryly without looking up from his paperwork. He felt pleased though. It did feel good. His philanthropic donations in the past had purely been for tax relief purposes. He had never enquired where the money had gone or seen what good it had done. He didn’t care either way.

Meredith shifted from one foot to another excitedly. 

‘Yes?’ questioned Greene when he realised she was still standing there.

‘It
is
good.’ 

‘I know,’ Greene’s voice now had an impatient edge. 

‘You’ll never guess how much’

‘You’re right, Meredith,’ sighed Greene, ‘I’m not going to guess, so why don’t you tell me?’

‘One million dollars and…’ squeaked Meredith. ‘…get this… one cent!’

Her excited voice danced around the room and Greene lifted his head and stared at her.

‘Excuse me?’ 

She now had his full attention.

Meredith grinned widely. She held up her notepad, written in thick black marker pen. ‘$1,000,000.01, isn’t that amazing?’

Greene stared at the number and closed his eyes. 

‘And it was an anonymous donation, can you believe?’ added Meredith.

Then he leaned back in his chair. He reopened his eyes and studied the ceiling as though seeing it for the first time, aware of his surroundings. He smiled. Then he started to laugh. He started to laugh so much it turned into a deep and spluttering cough.

Meredith abruptly stopped smiling and looked alarmed. ‘Mr Greene? Are you okay?’ She dropped the notepad and dashed over to his desk, leaning in to peer at him as though his windpipe might be obstructed.

He nodded, gently batting a hand at her to back off. She was invading his personal space.

‘Mr Greene?’

‘I’m fine. It’s unexpected, that’s all. I was just…’ cough, cough… ‘telling someone that no one can surprise me. It seems as though I was wrong.’

He wheezed and hollered and hooted, tears streaming down his face.

Meredith had never seen him like this in the eleven years she had worked for him. He never showed the slightest trace of emotion; he was a controlled, calm and unflappable man. This was truly alarming. Meredith’s hands fluttered to her chest. ‘Sir, do you want me to get your medication? Call the doctor? Tell me what to do!’

This made Greene laugh even harder. He clutched his stomach and groaned, feeling the abdominal muscles ripple and tense. His diaphragm was heaving and falling spectacularly.

‘Mr Greene,’ shouted Meredith, her voice verging on a hysterical scream.

‘I’m not
dying
, Meredith,’ he choked, wiping a tear from his eye, finally catching his breath. ‘I’m laughing.’

24

Stop, Minnie, I love you…

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Greene’s driver had picked Minnie up outside the motel and was driving her to the airport where she would catch her evening flight. On the way there, Minnie decided that she couldn’t wait a second longer to call James George. She had no pride when it came to him. It didn’t matter who made the first move; she was excited and incredibly nervous about seeing him again. The time difference was right; he would be at work.

He
was
at work and didn’t seem to appreciate the interruption. ‘I’m kinda in the middle of something,’ he said.

Minnie resisted the urge to ask, ‘Something or someone?’ She stopped herself, though, because she knew she had to let it go. If she couldn’t she realised that, as a couple, they would never be able to move forward.

‘I’m on the way to the airport,’ she said quickly, adding hesitantly, ‘and it would be great if you could pick me up.’ She gave him the flight details. All the while she could hear him tapping furiously away on a keyboard.

‘I saw the photographs,’ he said a touch sourly.

‘Oh,
them
,’ said Minnie. ‘Seriously, it was nothing.’

‘That’s what I tried to tell
you
.’

Minnie was astonished that James George actually believed his bouncing bedroom gymnastics were on the same level as an innocent kiss on the cheek.

‘James!’ she admonished.

‘It’s not how it looks? Oh, wait. Did I just steal your next line?’ he said.

‘It’s
not
how it looks,’ snapped Minnie in exasperation.

‘We all make mistakes,’ he replied.

Minnie didn’t like this ambiguous line. ‘I’ll be home soon. I want us to get married,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ve missed you so much.’

‘Me too,’ he said, his tone softening. He sounded distracted though and added, ‘Look, I’m sorry, babe. You’ve just caught me at a bad time. I’ve got to go but I’ll pick you up at the airport.’

Minnie was deeply unsettled as she heaved her suitcase in the direction of check-in. It wasn’t the welcome-back conversation with James George she had imagined but she accepted that it was just awkward because of the time spent apart. 

When the phone rang she thought it was him to apologise. It wasn’t, it was Angie.

‘You’re! Coming! Home!’ shouted Angie over a chorus of dogs barking in the background. ‘I’m
insanely
excited.’ 

‘Oh, Angie, I’ve missed you,’ sighed Minnie. ‘You’ll never know how much.’

‘I’m counting down the hours.’

‘James George is going to pick me up at Heathrow, Terminal 5. I’ll call you as soon as we’re on our way.’

‘About that,’ said Angie carefully. 

‘What?’ asked Minnie, instantly going into panic-mode.

‘He’s asked if I can do it instead.’

Minnie absorbed the words and fell silent. 

‘Sorry, darling,’ whispered Angie.

‘But I’ve just spoken to him,’ explained Minnie. ‘He said he would pick me up.’ 

‘Work stuff, I guess.’

‘He’s his own boss,’ said Minnie bewildered.

‘I’ll
be at arrivals, okay? I’ll be there to pick you up, I always will be.’

‘I know.’

‘Are you okay?’

‘I don’t understand. I’ve just spoken to him; why didn’t he call me back immediately and tell me? Why did he call you?’

‘I don’t know. Well, I do know but you probably don’t want to hear it,’ said Angie.

‘I know there are times when he forgets that he loves me, but this… this doesn’t… mean he doesn’t love me,’ explained Minnie desperately. ‘Does it?’

Angie didn’t respond.

‘It’s over, isn’t it?’ whispered Minnie, her throat started to hurt but she had cried out all her tears under the Golden Gate Bridge. 

‘Dodged a bullet, babe.’

‘Why did he do this to me?’

Angie was a natural analgesic, attempting to block the transfer of pain down the phone. ‘Sometimes you have to give up on someone, Minnie,’ she said soothingly. ‘No one can say you just walked away. I know you love James George but he needs to love you back otherwise a marriage will never work.’