Between Two Worlds (2 page)

“But my father was an ad man, and his father before him. It’s what
I was born and raised to do. You know that.” She struggled to keep her emotions
in check.

He patted her arm in a paternal way. “Your father was, and still
is, a remarkable man. He’s intelligent, aggressive, and very driven—a real Type
A personality, as they say. If we hadn’t been partners, he would have been my fiercest
competition. I know you want to make him proud , but you don’t have to walk in
his footsteps to do that. You need to follow your heart and discover your own way.”

Hot tears stung the backs of her eyes. She hated to cry! Her
father had raised her to believe it was a sign of weakness to let waterworks
flow, especially in front of the boss.  Even if the boss
was
her
father’s oldest and dearest friend.

What was her dad going to say when he found out she’d been handed
a mandatory leave of absence? He’d been so proud when she’d gotten this job.
She’d been proud, too.  But deep down, where she hated to admit the truth, she wondered
if some time off wouldn’t be for the best after all. After all these years, she
was beginning to realize designing ad campaigns really wasn’t her cup of tea.
What was, she had no clue. But talking “shop” with her dad on the rare occasions
they spoke on the phone or saw one another these days was what kept her coming
into the office day after day and working long hours banging out campaigns. She
wanted to connect with him, and advertising seemed to be the only thing they
had in common. Delaney lowered her head and willed herself not to lose control.

Like the gentleman he was, Pendergrass looked away for a moment,
as her eyes welled. In a kind voice, he said, “Go home. Read some books. Take
some walks. Go on a trip! Figure out what’s most important to you. The
direction of your life can take many courses. The Pendergrass Ad Agency isn’t
going anywhere.  You’re a loyal employee. I’ll be happy to talk to you again
once you return and have had a chance to clear your head.  Perhaps there will
be a more suitable position in another department available at that time.”

Delaney shook Pendergrass’s hand and exited the room. She brushed
away the tears and strolled down the hall to her office feeling blank on the
inside. When Meredith leaped up from her chair and asked how the meeting went,
Delaney felt too numb to answer. She slipped off Meredith’s shoes, left them
sitting in the middle of the floor, and walked into her office to collect her
purse. She slung it over her shoulder, took a final look around the room, and
closed and locked the office door behind her.

Meredith stepped out from behind her desk, her forehead puckered
with concern. “What’s wrong? You look like you lost your last friend.”

Delaney forced a weak smile. “Mr. Pendergrass thinks I need a
break. He told me to take a couple of weeks off and go somewhere inspiring, so
I can get the creative juices flowing again.” Though she tried to put a little
pep into her voice, she was sure Meredith could see through the façade.

“Uh-oh,” Meredith groaned.

“He assured me I’m not fired,” Delaney said quickly. “It’s
mandatory R and R time. That’s all. I’m due a vacation anyway.”

Meredith pulled her close and gave her a hug, and Delaney clung to
her friend for a moment. “I just might decide to head out of town. Some down time
would do me good.”

Meredith agreed. “You work too much.”

Delaney backed up and stifled a sniffle. “I’ll guarantee you one
thing.”

“What’s that?”

“When I return, I plan to come back with a new outlook and some
fresh ideas to pitch to Mr. Pendergrass.” Although her boss had suggested she
was done designing ad campaigns, she smiled and hoped she sounded convincing.

Meredith handed her the mismatched pair of shoes. “That’s my girl!
Stay positive. I’ll miss you, but while you’re gone, I promise to keep the home
fires burning here.”

Delaney nodded and turned to leave.

“Hey!” Meredith called. “Take care. If you do decide to go somewhere
exciting, send me a postcard.”

Dangling the black and blue heels from her fingertips, Delaney
offered a backhanded wave and padded down the hall toward the elevator in her
nylon-clad feet.

Two

Delaney stepped outside. The Arizona sun sizzled. It was one of
those mornings you could fry eggs on the sidewalk. Still smarting and lost in
thought, she sauntered from the office building toward the street. She racked
her brains trying to figure out what had just happened back there in the
conference room. Being delivered mandatory time away had come as a complete
surprise. She’d pretended to be okay in front of Meredith, but the truth was
she wasn’t okay at all. Advertising was more than a job to her. It was all
she’d ever known. It was her life. What was she going to do for two weeks? Sit
around the apartment twiddling her thumbs? What if Mr. Pendergrass was right? What
if her heart wasn’t into advertising?  What would she do with her life? She’d never
considered anything else, because she hadn’t wanted to let her father down.

Fighting to keep tears from springing forth again, she thought,
I’m
just tired
.
I’ll rest and get
rejuvenated, and when I come back,
Mr. Pendergrass will see
I really am a chip off the old block!

Stepping to the curb, she let her shoes drop. Her feet burned from
the hot concrete. She slipped into the heels, and when she looked up, her gaze fell
upon an elderly man leaning against a cab at curbside. He ogled her.

Where’d he come from? He wasn’t there a second ago.
She sniffled and ogled him back. No taller than
five feet, he
tipped his cap to show her a thick
nest of red curls. He was
fair-skinned with a round face, and
large mutton chop sideburns covered
his cheeks. The
brown trousers and forest green jacket he wore looked to
be
homemade, but his footwear was of excellent quality—supple
black
leather with polished silver buckles on each shoe.

“Good mornin’, miss. Can I offer ye a ride?”

His brogue, thick and Irish, intrigued her. She was of Celtic
descent herself. Though she knew the Irish were among the immigrants who had
flocked to America for hundreds of years, it wasn’t often she ran into such a
flamboyant Irishman in Phoenix.

Delaney shook her head and waved him off. “No thanks.”

“Wait, lass!” he called. “If ye will.”

Her neck revolved. “Yes?”

When he grinned, a wide gap between his front teeth was exposed.
His bright green eyes twinkled as he bragged, “I’m the best taxi driver in the
city. I’ll get ye anywhere ye need to be. I know all the short cuts.”

She smiled. “No offense, but I’ve had some bad luck with cabs
lately. I prefer to walk.” She struck out again.

“I’m Irish, as ye might have guessed.” He hopped in front of her. 
The man was spry for his advanced age. “Have ye heard about the luck of the
Irishmen?” He cocked his head to the side and batted his long red lashes.

She chuckled. He reminded her of the leprechaun on the Lucky
Charms cereal box. “Yes. I’ve heard it.”

He pulled a hankie from his jacket pocket and wiped perspiration off
his face. “Well, I’m here to bring ye some of that luck. It’s a mighty warm day
today, lass. I’ve got air in me cab. It’s very cool. Besides, I think ye could
use a wee bit of cheerin’ up, if I’m readin’ yer face correctly.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“’Fraid so.” He grinned.

PLOP!
A fat drop of water landed
on her arm. Delaney gazed into the sky. “Did you see that? A single raindrop
just fell from out of nowhere. How odd. There’s not a cloud in the sky.”

The taxi driver looked up and shrugged.

As she watched the blue sky quickly grow gray, she took a step
toward the cab. “I’ve changed my mind. I think I’ll take you up on that ride
after all.”

The cabbie’s mouth widened into a grin. He unlatched the back door
and held it open for her. “I’m Samuel McKinney, but feel free to call me Sam.
Pleased to make yer acquaintance.”

“Same here. My name’s Delaney.” She drew her long legs into the
cab and buckled up. He shut the door and jaunted around the front of the car.
With curiosity, she watched as he tapped the hood three times with his fist before
climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Is that some sort of Irish tradition?” she asked, once he was inside
and had fired up the engine.

“What’s that, miss?”

“Knocking on the hood that way. Do you do it for good luck?”

He chuckled. “Ye caught me. Old habits die hard. I’ve been in this
country a good many years and still can’t give up the old superstitions.”
Samuel adjusted the rearview mirror and peered at her. “Delaney is a fine Irish
name,” he said, winking one emerald eye.

“So I’ve been told.”

He buckled his seat belt, checked the side mirror for traffic, put
the turn signal on, and eased the cab onto the street. “We’re on our way now.
I’m a little long in the tooth, as ye might have noticed, but me drivin’ is
still right as rain. I’ll get ye there in one piece.”

“Glad to hear it. I don’t need any more incidents today.” Delaney
glanced out the window and then back at him. “Wait a minute. I didn’t give you
my address.”

“Ole Samuel knows where yer goin’. ‘Twas given all the information
already.”

She scrunched up her nose and gazed at the back of his head. “What
do you mean you’ve been given the information? What information would that be?”

Sam mumbled, “Fiddlesticks” under his breath and pressed down hard
on the gas pedal. “Don’t mind me, miss. Why don’t ye tell me that address now.”

Delaney hesitated before answering. “Five-Twenty Broadview.”

“Aye, lass. Got it!” Sam focused on the road ahead with his small hands
clutched securely on the wheel. Delaney rocked back and forth as the cab began
weaving in and out of traffic, like a serpent.

“I thought you said you’re a good driver.” She grabbed onto the
seat in front of her when she was pitched forward.

“I am. Sit back and enjoy yer ride.” Samuel hunched over the wheel
and muttered to himself as he accelerated and passed several more cars. After a
minute of grumbling, he struck up a friendly conversation with her again. “Must
be yer ma who was Irish,” he said.

Delaney’s breath hitched. “Why do you say that?”

“The name Marshall is not Celtic, so I’m guessing yer ma had the
Irish roots, not yer da. Your ma’s the one who named you Delaney. Am I right?”

“How do you know my last name is Marshall?” Her brow furrowed with
suspicion.

Sam wiggled around in his seat as if a bee had flown up his bum. Stammering,
he said, “Why, ye told me, lass. When ye introduced yourself.”

“No,” she said, firmly. “I didn’t mention my last name. And why
did you say my mother
was
Irish. You said it in the past tense, as if
you knew she’s deceased.” Delaney unbuckled her seatbelt, leaned over the front
seat and stared intently at his profile.

The cabbie glanced at her and gulped. “Is she in the next world,
miss?”

“Yes, but you spoke as if you already knew that.”

He giggled, but it was a nervous laugh, as if he’d been caught in
a lie. When a car swerved in front of them, Sam laid on the car horn and
shouted an expletive. When Delaney cleared her throat, he apologized. “Excuse
me, lass. These modern drivers are crazy.”

She tapped his shoulder. “Just who are you, Mr. McKinney? Are you
really a cab driver?” Afraid she’d gotten into the car with a lunatic, or
worse—an elderly driver with an expired license and death wish—she glanced at
the buildings flying past the window and wondered just how many bones she’d
break if she had to jump out of the moving vehicle.

“Of course! Take a look at me certificate.” He pointed to a
document hanging from the window visor and then flipped the visor back up
quickly.

“Flip that back down,” she insisted. “I didn’t get a good look at
it.”

“What, miss?”

“Stop this cab! Right now, and let me out.”

“Oh, my! Hold on to yer knickers!” Samuel stomped on the brakes,
and the cab screeched and swerved and then bounced and jolted to a full stop,
directly in front of a road repair crew working in the street. Delaney was
flung back and her purse flew off the seat, skidding onto the floor.

Sam jammed the shifter into
Park
, cut off the engine and
twisted around in his seat. His green eyes popped with fright. “Are ye all
right, Miss Marshall?”

Delaney picked her purse up from the floor and skimmed a hand
through her disheveled hair. “Yes. I’m fine. You?”

“Good as gold, miss. Good as gold.” He sighed. “I’m sorry about
that quick stop. Didn’t see the road crew there.”

Delaney looked out the window and recognized the neighborhood they
were in. She was only about three blocks from home. “I think I’ve had enough
excitement for one day,” she announced, snapping open the purse. “I’m going to walk
the rest of the way. Here you go.” She dug into her wallet and handed him more
than enough cash to cover the charge and then pushed the door open and stepped
into the street. The moment she slammed the door shut, an ominous cloud hovering
in the sky split open and poured out a bucket of rain. Big, shimmering drops
splattered onto her lavender suit. Her eyes rolled. “This is unbelievable. If I
didn’t have bad luck today, I wouldn’t have any luck at all.”