Sadie was happy to see me the next morning. Maybe I was more reliable than the average homeless person. It was nice to start out the day with her smile.
“You ever going to shave off that fuzz?” Sadie asked. I could see her eyes on my chin. The mirror told me it added a few years to my looks, but I was getting used to it. Amber would have hated it. Strangely, that’s why I finally decided not to shave it. It reminded me she was gone, and I didn’t want to forget. I was worse off without her and my scraggly beard was proof.
“Someday,” I answered with a smile.
“It makes you look old.” Sadie turned and started walking toward the kitchen. I followed, liking my beard a little less.
I went to work on last year’s financials. It took me all day to audit the financials and reconcile everything to the tax return. I questioned Sadie about a single donation entry marked Charity Ball. She produced a paper ledger with the handwritten names of all the donors and the amounts they gave. The Kitchen put on the ball every February. It was the biggest fundraiser of the year. I tallied the donations and they mirrored the entry. It was a pretty successful event, generating a little over $35, 000 in donations.
“I notice you don’t take a salary.” It struck me as odd. She spent seven days a week here and there was no disbursements to her name. In fact, there was no payroll at all.
“I don’t need the money,” Sadie said nonchalantly.
“Independently wealthy?” I was grinning.
“I don’t know, Frank.” Sadie emphasized my phoney name. “Am I?” We were still in the trade story for story mode. I wasn’t willing to give up mine and she was stubbornly holding on to hers as leverage.
“I’ll just make up a story then,” I said, tongue-in-cheek.
“Make it a good one.” Sadie laughed and returned to her work. I liked her laugh. She didn’t laugh enough. Neither did I.
I found only one entry without supporting documentation. It was for fifteen dollars and was expensed as window cleaning. Hardly material, but I followed up anyway. Sadie had given a young boy the money to clean the windows. He obviously didn’t have a business that could generate a receipt. He was homeless with his mother and just wanted to help. Sadie allowed it and paid him out of petty cash. I assured Sadie it wasn’t going to be a problem.
I now knew the words to ‘Sugar Magnolia’ by heart. I really wanted to ask Sadie why she played that song every day. I knew it would cost me my past so I just sat with Houser and tried to quell my interest. It was jello night so Houser passed me his. He didn’t say I owed him and didn’t draw attention to it in any way. We were like a married couple. We knew what each other liked and just simply traded food. Amber and I used to raid each other’s salads at restaurants. I would go for her onions and she for my olives. We would do it in the middle of a conversation, without breaking thought. It was a simple thing and I was fond of the memory.
“You have any family?” I asked. I wondered why I never asked the question before. I was so busy hiding my past, I never thought about his. He simply nodded and went on eating. I could tell he really didn’t want to go into it. There was no eye contact, and his gritty smile wasn’t evident. I dropped the subject and knew we would be better friends because of it.
I spent the next day on the two-years-back books. There was absolutely nothing wrong with them. I couldn’t even find simple addition errors. Sadie was as stringent with her accounting as she was with her kitchen. I pulled the IRS letter out of the desk again and reread it. It used harsher language than I had seen in past audits. Something of the Kitchen’s size was usually handled by mail. Here they were demanding an on-site audit with veiled threats hidden inside their demands. The two tax returns I reviewed didn’t seem to warrant any kind of review. Nothing in them should have raised any flags. The letter was certainly not indicative of a random audit.
“This audit doesn’t feel right,” I said as Sadie came in to check my progress. “It almost seems hostile.” She hesitated before she responded. Then she sat down.
“I think it is an attack, but I can’t be sure.” Sadie sighed softly, looking at the letter I placed on the desk. “The city tried to rezone this block for a developer. It would have forced me out so I fought it and won. I don’t know how they could have done that.” She pointed to the letter. “But I think it might be part of the same thing.” She looked up at me. “The IRS doesn’t do things like that, do they?”
“No, but people do.” My anger was brewing again. Someone was the friend of an IRS field agent. It was the only way the letter made sense. Dismantling Sadie’s enterprise would silence her opposition. It was a roundabout, but effective way. I simply wasn’t going to allow it to happen.
“We’ll just make sure they fail.” There was determination in my mind and I wanted Sadie to hear it in my voice. I was surprised when she blushed at my words.
“Thank you, Frank. That makes me feel a lot better.” Sadie stumbled the response out with an awkward smile. She hesitantly rose and exited the room. It almost seemed like she wanted to say more, but thought better of it. She was flustered and I wondered what I had said that caused it.
Sadie surprised me the next morning with a cup of coffee and a doughnut. I had never seen her serve any food before four. I had never even seen her eat. I stared at it in shock when she placed in on the desk. She blushed again and left quickly. I didn’t even have time to get a ‘thank you’ out. It was completely unlike her.
I spent the morning, warmed by coffee, traversing the first year the IRS was interested in. They were as immaculate as the other two. I was determined to leave no stone unturned, so I went through the Charity Ball ledger as I had the other two years.
I was absently totaling the donations when my eyes were attracted to the name column. A sense of familiarity pulled my eyes. ‘Amber and David Thaxton’ was handwritten next to a donation of fifty dollars. My eyes welled up as I ran my fingers across the names. Amber was always giving small sums to one organization or another. My name must have come from the check. The irony of it all hit hard. I felt tears running down my cheeks and I squeezed my eyes to get them to stop. They didn’t, so I let it go. I saw her perfectly again, my mind had rebuilt the image. With it, the pain came slamming back. I buckled under the pressure and the floodgates opened. God, I loved that woman.
Sadie picked that time to check on my progress. Fooling no one, I turned away and quickly wiped my eyes. I stumbled out of the office mentioning the need to use the restroom. The tears kept coming as I hurried past Kevin who was busy peeling potatoes. I spent fifteen minutes, sitting on the toilet, slowing my heart. I rinsed my face, trying to dull the redness around my eyes.
Sadie was sitting at the desk when I returned. “Close the door,” she said, and motioned me to the seat on the other side.
“My husband died nine years ago.” Sadie was looking directly at me. “The kitchen was Richard’s creation, the only thing he had done right, he told me. I promised him I would keep it running. I don’t think he envisioned me running it personally, but here I am.” She looked down at the desk. “The whole world thinks you’re dead.” My mind was reeling. She made sense now, her running this place fit. Her telling me about it meant she knew something of me.
“Most of the world doesn’t know I exist,” I countered. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be angry. I just didn’t want more memories. I was having trouble not remembering on my own.
“I’m pretty good with faces, it was your beard and name that through me off.” Sadie tapped the ledger with Amber’s and my names. “You just looked the same way I felt when Richard died, David.” I excused myself again. Having Sadie know was just as bad as seeing Amber’s name in the ledger. I was dousing my face in cold water when I began to wonder how she knew my face. She wasn’t guessing, she knew. I don’t remember ever meeting her prior to a few days ago. Maybe she knew Amber, that would explain the donation. I settled my emotions and returned for the second time.
“You knew Amber?” I asked, choking on her name.
“Close the door,” Sadie responded while shaking her head no. “I know of her. The whole world knows her.” I sat down confused. “I’m sorry, seeing the name in the ledger must have hurt.” I closed my eyes and nodded. I really didn’t want to start crying again. I wasn’t confident my voice wouldn’t crack.
“You can hide here for as long as you need,” Sadie offered.
“The police looking for me or something?” I asked with quite a bit of confusion.
“Not any more. They think you’re dead.” I shook my head, trying to wrap my thoughts around what Sadie was saying. Amber’s image kept flashing in my mind. I had an estranged sister, it would have taken her twenty years to report me missing. I had quit my job, they wouldn’t have cared enough to check up on me. I guess maybe a friend, but I hadn’t been gone long enough for them to worry enough to call the police.
“Why would they think that?”
“You don’t know?” Sadie seemed surprised.
“Know what?” Sadie went to work on the computer as I looked on. A few moments later she turned the monitor towards me. My picture was on the screen under the headline, ‘Promise Keeper Believed Dead.’ The banner across the top was the daily paper’s logo. It was a picture of me, on stage, with my hand held out before me.
“Your song ‘Amber’ went viral.” Sadie said softly.
“It was just a prelim. It wasn’t supposed to be broadcast,” I said as I leaned into the computer screen to read the article text. The text mentioned finding my wallet in the east river. The fact that it contained money, indicated I wasn’t robbed. Their assumptions were correct, the end result was not.
“How did your wallet end up in the river?” Sadie asked softly. I could see the concern in her eyes.
“Houser fished me out of the river,” I answered. I wasn’t ready to say the truth out loud and probably never would. I skipped over it and then added a weak justification, “It wasn’t a good time for me.”
“And now?”
“Time to think,” I answered, “I just need time to think.” Sadie looked like she might have misunderstood so I added, “No more bridges in my future.” She smiled.
“Take all the time you need, Frank.” I smiled at her use of ‘Frank.’
“I’ll figure things out as soon as we get through this IRS audit,” I said as I continued perusing the article. Sadie got flustered again and fumbled her way off her seat. I had no idea what was causing it. I pretended to ignore it for her sake, and mine.
“I’m sorry about Amber,” Sadie whispered before she opened the door.
“I’m sorry about Richard.” We shared forced smiles. At least we understood each other that far.