Chapter Three

The sound from the television filtered into her ears and Bridget opened her eyes.

She had left it on, having dozed off while watching a late-night soap opera. 

She glanced at the wall clock and sat up, threw out the bed covers, and ran to the bathroom. 

She had promised Janet a ride to the mall by 8 am, and she had barely an hour.

Running a brush through her teeth, she turned on the tap, her mind going back to the meeting with her mother's attorney and the staff of Fanny's restaurant the previous day.

Losing her remaining surviving parent was enough pain to deal with, but the knowledge that she might be losing the family's restaurant as well was too much to bear.

There was just no way she would allow those greedy Harrisons to take over an establishment that her family has worked so hard for more than twenty years.

No, her mother could not have signed away the restaurant with her eyes closed. Not after everything that had taken place ten years ago.

She shut her eyes briefly and reopened them again as a flood of memories came rushing out. Once again, she was thirteen years old, sitting on a high stool beside the table in her mother's stain-free kitchen, cutting vegetables for dinner. 

"Remember, no dirt on the floor, Bridge," her mother said in her usual singsong voice, stirring a pot on the stove with a steel spoon. "Every waste goes into the waste bin."

"Yes, mum." Bridget kept her gaze on the cabbage, keeping her fingers away from the sharp edge of the knife to avoid cutting herself again. She had seen hell the last time she had mistakenly cut her hands. And though her mother had gotten out her first aid box and treated the injury, Bridget had not forgotten the discomfort she experienced.

Suddenly, they heard the front door swing open and then slammed shut. Heavy footsteps sounded on the floor and moved in the opposite direction.

Bridget paused and looked up at her mother who quickly turned off the stove, leaving the spoon in the pot.

She took off her apron, hung it on the door, and left the kitchen.

Bridget waited a few minutes and got down from the stool. She tiptoed past the door moving along the narrow passage, toward the door that led to her parents' bedroom.

"He deserves a jail term," she heard her father say in a thundering voice. "That contract was mine. How dare he take it from me?"

"I know, darling," her mother said soothingly.

"I'm going to fight him on this. I must get back what belongs to me." 

"Why do I feel you mean more than the contract?" Her mother said softly.

"Because I do and you know that."

"It's all in the past, Patrick."

"Is it really? Then it's surprising that he never lets me forget it."

"When are we finally going to get past all these?"

"When I can stand before Bill and laugh at him to scorn. The Harrisons are God's biggest mistake on earth. They should never have existed." 

Bridget heard a door slam shut again and realized her father must have gone to the bathroom.

The sound of footsteps made her run back into the kitchen. She had barely sat on the stool when her mother entered and moved towards the stove. She turned it on as her body shook softly.

Bridget stared at the knife in front of her as her eyes became moist.

The Harrisons seemed to have made life difficult for her parents. And now they have ruined another evening in her home.

She blinked her eyes, returning to the present. She turned off the tap and went back into her bedroom. She searched through her wardrobe and got out a pink t-shirt and jeans. After putting them on, she took her car keys and left the house.

Janet was standing by the sidewalk when Bridget arrived at her house. Bridget had barely turned off the engine when she jumped in and slammed the door.

"Gosh! What took you so long?" She flung her blonde hair sideways and looked at Bridget "You don't look so good."

"I'm good," Bridget replied. Janet had always been the sensitive type and sometimes Bridget could swear that Janet could read her thoughts. But this time, she was not in the mood for conversation and just needed to be left alone in her thoughts.

"How did the meeting with your mum's attorney go?"

Sure, that was Janet quite alright.

Bridget shrugged and kept her eyes on the road.

Janet has been her best friend since their high school days, and their friendship brought their families together. Bridget's mother always invited Janet for dinner at their house until she passed on. This was also reciprocated by Janet's mother. Both mothers would meet regularly for a cup of coffee and you could hear them sharing tales about their lives, their husbands; late and divorced, and other things mothers talk about.

Janet and Bridget shared everything and were usually there for each other whenever one of them needed a shoulder to cry on.

Janet had stayed with Bridget and consoled her after the news of her father's murder shattered her life and that of her mother. Then Bridget sat with Janet and comforted her when her parents' marriage became rocky, and again when she found difficulty dealing with the pain of the divorce.

And recently, Janet had stayed with Bridget after her mother's death.

Janet had taken the science route and studied biochemistry, while Business had stuck to business administration to manage her parents' business.

But even though they toured different career paths, they remained close friends.

"Come on, Bridge. Aren't you going to tell me about it? Why are we friends if you can't tell me what is troubling you?"

Bridget turned to her and at that point, a red open-roofed Ferrari came ambling from across the road toward the. Seeing it too late, Bridget swerved sharply to the right and would have hit her head on the steering but for her seatbelt which held her securely to her seat.

Realizing what had happened, Janet was visibly shaken as she stared open-mouthed at the Ferrari which had stopped a few meters away.

Bridget saw the driver come out and began to walk towards them, so she opened her car door and stepped out.

He was tall and muscular, with handsome features that made him look more like a movie star than just another driver on the road. He wore baggy jeans and white polo and had a scowl on his face as he approached.

"You should watch where you are going next time," He said. And with that, he turned to go back to his car.

Wait a minute!

"Oh, hold on a second." Bridget felt Janet's hand on her arm and shook it off, realizing she had stepped out of the car as well.

The man turned toward her and tilted his head, daring her to say something.

Well, that wasn't going to stop her and it was time he realized that.

"Who do you think you are? The president of the United States? If there is anyone who needs to watch where they are going, that should be you."

He grinned and Bridget felt like slapping off that smug look from his face.

"You think so?"

"Of course, I do. You should be responsible enough to render an apology."

"Really." He stared down at her, his gaze running from her face to her white canvas. 

Feeling slightly nervous, Bridget moved her legs, shifting her weight to her left foot.

Without a word, he veered around and walked back to his car.

She stood still, watching as he threw another smug look at her and drove off with his car raising dust in its wake.

"Wow, Bridge. Feisty as always." Janet exclaimed. "I didn't know you still had it in you."

Bridget blinked her eyes and got back into the car, remembering back in the days when she had to single-handedly rescue Janet from the high school bullies who had a habit of troubling innocent and helpless students. Well, they were lucky they had the sense to stay away from her. 

The smug look on the arrogant driver's face still pissed her off even though he had left the scene. 

"He was in the wrong," she blurted out.

"And now in the past," Janet said. "You should be thankful you won't have to encounter him ever again."

Bridget's phone rang at that point and she pressed the dial button upon seeing Anita's name on the screen.

"Hi, Anita."

"Hello, Bridget. How soon can you get to the restaurant? There is a message here for you."

"From whom?"

Anita paused and Bridget could hear her sigh over the phone.

"From the Harrisons."