The walk up to St. Michael’s Home for Boys causes my stomach to roll. When I left here so many years ago, I swore on everything I had that I would never cross this doorway again. Chuck is right beside me, whistling a tune as we wait for the doors to open. I never asked how he knew this was a part of my past, but I just assume he knows all. One day, I will ask him, but right now, it's not really important.
The door opens, and my mouth drops. It's an old Sister Mary Francis. I mean, I thought she was old when I was here, but now? She's ancient. "Mr. Jones and his anonymous benefactor, I presume?"
Her question has me looking over at Chuck. Anonymous? Really? That might be the best option, actually. I internally chuckle at the hell I caused in this place, and this woman dealt with 99.9% of it. "That's right, Mother Superior. Can we come in?"
She leads us into the entry hall and it's all the same. Every piece of furniture, every stand, even the smell is the same. It brings me back to that angry, scared little kid, making this very uncomfortable.
Chuck and Mother Superior are talking, and I'm tuning it out as we start the tour. I'm walking on autopilot. The hallways and rooms are the same, and I almost feel like a child, and this is my life. We finally make it to her office, taking the same damn seat I have taken in the past, and I finally pay attention.
Chuck is all about the finances and percentages, going back and forth with her on what needs to be done, and how it needs to be paid.
The entire time, Mother Superior is staring at me, responding to Chuck as if he has her full attention, but I squirm in my chair under her scrutiny.
"You've not changed a bit, Mr. Fairchild. Still squirming as if you are in trouble." My eyes whip to her, and she's smiling as she continues. "I'm not stupid, gentleman. I never forget a face either. Joel Fairchild, in the flesh. Who would have ever figured?"
I chuckle. She's blunt as always, and for some reason, I'm not upset or nervous. I'm just an adult guy, trying to help someone out.
"Me neither, me neither. How ya doin’, Sister Mary F?" She clears her throat, and I cringe. "Sorry. Mother Superior. Got a promotion, huh?"
She inspects me, taking everything in, and I know she's thinking the same thing. "Seems like you are doing well for yourself, Mr. Fairchild. Married even! I am shocked. Pleasantly so."
I grin, and almost want to pop my collar (if I wore collared shirts) in recognition. "You just wouldn't believe it if I told you. You really wouldn't."
She laughs as a well dressed young boy brings in a tray with coffee and cookies. He quietly sets it on her desk, and quickly leaves.
Mother pours our coffee, and I glance at Chuck who silently urges me to continue.
"Remember when I first came here? Nobody knew anything about me, right?" She nods, and I continue, "Well about six months ago, I got a phone call. The Denton estate? It's all mine. Apparently, I'm their long lost grandson. So, here I am. All this money, no interest in spending it for me, so Chuck here gave me the idea to fix things. You guys need to be fixed."
I get up, crossing over to the desk in the corner, and sure enough, the carved JF and the attempt at a star are still etched in the top. I rub my fingers over it, and grin at the memory of doing it. "Same old stuff here, Mother. Don't cha think it's time for an upgrade?"
"Don't you, Mr. Fairchild! Your grammar is still atrocious."
I laugh and lean against the old desk. "Yes or no, Mother? You want my money or not?"
She leans in her chair, her hands forming a steeple. "Yes. Money's been tight for years, and as you can see, we are struggling. But there is one stipulation. You and I? We are going to talk one on one about life."
I ponder her stipulation, and I have to admit, the adult in me would love to get a new outlook on my past. "I have a stipulation of my own, Mother. This desk? Comes with me today. Call it sentiment, nostalgia, whatever you want, but I leave with it."
Chuck snorts in the chair, and Mother laughs outright. She leans forward and holds out her hand. "You have got yourself a deal, Mr. Fairchild."
I shake her firm grasp, and laugh. "One more thing. I won't answer to Mr. Fairchild. Call me Joel."
---TBC---
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