by Unknown
Nathalyia had heard it before. Just because she chose to live her life differently and not look for a man to take care of her or one she could spread her legs for, they called her stuck-up. “Leaving without paying your bill is a criminal offense.”
The smug look disappeared. Theresa’s lower lip began to tremble. “I’ve never done anything like this before. I was desperate.” Her head lowered. “Things haven’t been good since Mama died.”
“What?” Nathalyia reached for the nearby chair for support.
Theresa’s head came up. “Last year from complications of sugar.”
“I didn’t know she had diabetes,” Nathalyia said.
Theresa shrugged carelessly. “She didn’t find out until she had a sore on her foot that kept getting worse.”
“Why didn’t someone contact me?”
“How were we to find you?” Theresa asked, crossing the room. “Mama couldn’t always eat the way she should because we didn’t have the money. You left without letting us know how to find you. She might still be alive if you were there to help.”
Nathalyia felt the accusation, the guilt. She hadn’t left her address because she hadn’t wanted them coming to her asking for money. Her hand cupped her churning stomach.
Martin had urged her to contact her family during his final months. He hadn’t wanted her to be alone or to live with guilt if something happened to them. His family had been small, but close. He never understood why hers could never be.
“I’m sorry.”
“We didn’t land the big fish, like you. How did you do it?”
There was such greedy interest in her sister’s dark eyes, such jealously. “We fell in love.”
Theresa laughed as if the idea were idiotic. “Yeah, where is he?”
“He died three years ago,” she told her.
Her sister’s eyes rounded with greed. “You own all this?”
“The bank has a big chunk,” Nathalyia lied. The restaurant had been debt free since Martin paid off the last improvement loan eight years ago. “I put in thirteen-fourteen-hour days to keep the place.”
“I’d work if I could find anything. You know there isn’t any work in Kingstree,” Theresa said. “There isn’t much of anything there. If the doctors were specialists, Mama might still be living if she’d had better medical care.”
Nathalyia eased down in the chair. “I would have helped if I had known.”
“Mama kept asking for you at the last moments. She wanted to see you before she died,” Theresa told her, her voice hushed and strained. “Paula and I did what we could to help her in those final days, but we couldn’t do much. Like I said, you could have made a big difference.”
“Where is Paula?” Nathalyia asked. Paula was the oldest, and the meanest. She’d taken pleasure in taunting Nathalyia and in taking the few nice pieces of clothes she had been able to purchase.
“In Vegas for the past two months. She left soon after Mama died. She said she didn’t want to grow old and die without seeing some of the world.” Theresa laughed nastily. “She had to string on this fat old slob, a retired dockworker, to get out of town. She dumped him in Philly and is working her way across the country.”
Nathalyia could imagine how her sister was “working her way” across the country. What a morally corrupt and dishonest family she had. If anyone found out— “It’s against the restaurant’s policy, but you can go.”
“You’re just going to turn your back on me again?” Theresa asked. Her voice trembled, her eyes huge in her dark face.
Nathalyia came unsteadily to her feet and shot a nervous glance at the door. “I’m not turning my back on you.”
“Yes, you are, just like you did when you came to visit. I didn’t hit the jackpot like you did. I want the same things any woman wants.”
That was debatable, but Nathalyia wanted Theresa gone as soon as possible. “How are you getting back home?”
“The work bus,” she said, referring to the bus that ran daily between Myrtle Beach and the tiny town that was slowly dying.
“How did you get on?” Nathalyia asked. The driver, employed by the city, wasn’t supposed to let anyone on the free bus who didn’t have a job in Myrtle Beach.
Theresa looked away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Revulsion rolled though Nathalyia. She went behind her desk for her purse. “I’ll give you enough money to take a regular bus.”
“Once I get home, then what?” Theresa cried in alarm. “The only reason I came here was to meet a man I’d met on the Internet. I was desperate. He lied about his big job. It’s his fault for the mess I’m in, for running out on me.”
Nathalyia pulled her purse from the bottom drawer of her desk. Seeing the designer bag increased her guilt. “I’ll give you money to last for a few days.”
“What will I do when it runs out?” Theresa caught Nathalyia’s arm, her long nails digging into her flesh. “You’re my only hope.”
“You’re hurting me.”
“Sorry.” Theresa released her arm. “I just don’t know where I’ll go or what will happen to me if you turn your back on me again like you did to Mama. You gotta help me!”
Nathalyia rubbed her hand over the area. Her skin burned. She couldn’t tell whether Theresa was actually sorry or had intentionally hurt her. Theresa was a liar and a cheat. Nathalyia’s uncertainty helped to convince her that she didn’t want her unpredictable, amoral sister around. “Maybe you’ll find a job.”
“I told you—” Theresa stopped. Her eyes rounded. “That’s it! You can give me a job.”
“What?”
“I could work at the bar.” She smiled. “I’d be better than that overwe—”
“Stop it!”
Theresa twisted her hands. “I didn’t mean anything. I’m just so mixed up. I want a chance to be better.” Theresa glanced around the room. “Look at you. You have all this and I have nothing.
We’re sisters. If you turn your back on me, where will I go? No one will hire me back home.”
“Have you applied?”
There was the briefest pause. “Of course, but I had to take care of Mama for so long, and they wanted references. I have no other way of getting money. I can’t even get food stamps.” Her eyes narrowed. “The heif—The woman at social services acts like it was her money.”
“What about from Macy or Karolyn and Kory?” Nathalyia asked, referring to Theresa’s oldest daughter and her nineteen-year-old twins.
“They all deserted me,” Theresa whispered, wiping her eyes. “I know I wasn’t the best mother, but I raised them the way I was raised. Macy took off two years ago, and the twins joined the army as soon as they graduated. I checked with the enlistment office and they could send me money if they wanted, but they won’t. The twins told me they couldn’t. They don’t answer my letters. I have no idea where Macy is. I have no one. Except you.”
Nathalyia didn’t like the sound of that. “Theresa, you can’t work here. You tried to skip out on your bill. The employees know what you tried to do.” Nathalyia was desperate to get rid of her sister.
“You own the place. You can hire me, and there ain’t a thing they can do about it.”
“You’d be embarrassed,” Nathalyia reasoned.
“Once I might have cared, but not with the rent due and being low on food.” She tucked her head. “Today was the first time I’ve had a decent meal in weeks. You gotta give me a chance to have a better life. We’re sisters.”
That was the crux of the problem. Nathalyia didn’t want anyone to know they were related. She could give Theresa money for living expenses, but it would never be enough.
“Mama’s dying wish was for us to be closer,” Theresa pressed her point. “Don’t turn your back on me the way you did before and let poor Mama die in misery begging for you.”
The churning returned to Nathalyia’s stomach.
“I can see how people knowing I’m your sister might be a problem, so we can tell them I’m a
n old high school friend. It ain’t like we look anything like each other. Your daddy was high yellow, where mine was black as coal.” Her eyes narrowed on Nathalyia’s long black hair. “You got the good hair and the light skin. You always had it better than me and Paula.”
“My skin and hair have nothing to do with anything. I worked hard.” It was an old disagreement.
Theresa held up her hands. “I ain’t knocking you. Like I said, I’m looking for my own chance. If you won’t help me, I’ll be out in the street in a week.”
“I guess.” Nathalyia didn’t see a way out. She couldn’t get it out of her mind that her mother had needed her and she hadn’t been there.
Theresa grinned in triumph. “Thank you. You won’t be sorry. We can be the sisters Mama always wanted. Maybe I can stay with you?”
“No.” She’d spent eighteen years in the same household with Theresa—when she chose to come home—and couldn’t remember a single day that they hadn’t argued about something. “I have my own life.”
Theresa grinned and elbowed her. “Got a man, huh?” She laughed at Nathalyia’s blush.
Nathalyia thought of Rafael. He could never learn about Theresa, he just couldn’t. His family cared for each other. Hers used her or anyone else to get what they wanted.
“You can count on me,” Theresa continued, actually sounding as if she cared.
Nathalyia caught a whiff of her sister’s strong perfume as she passed, and looked again at the wig and revealing clothes. “Do you have a white blouse and black pants or a skirt—that’s not too tight or too short?” she added quickly. All of the clothes her mother and sisters wore were always skintight and embarrassingly short.
“No, and I don’t have the money to buy them.” She bit her lower lip, briefly bowed her head. “Maybe you could pick up a few things for me and take it out of my first week’s pay.”
Nathalyia wasn’t surprised by the request. Theresa always spent other people’s money and not her own. Nathalyia knew it would probably get worse as time passed. “Maybe there’s a place at home you can try once you have a reference from here.”
Horror leaped into her sister’s eyes. “Mama wanted us to be close. I want that, too. It was the last thing she talked about on the day she died, that and how she wished you were there.”
Guilt slammed into Nathalyia again. “All right. Report to my office at ten in the morning without the strong perfume, and wear a wig that isn’t so flamboyant.”
Frowning, Theresa touched her long black wig streaked with red. “This is my favorite. Men like it. They say I look sexy.”
“You’ll be working, not trying to attract men. We have a certain standard at Fontaine that I intend to maintain,” Nathalyia told her, unwilling to back down on the dress code.
“Sure. I was just trying to help you,” Theresa explained. “I thought they might spend more if they had an attractive wait-ress.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“All right. I better get going if I’m going to catch the earlier bus.” Theresa started for the door. “Louis is gonna be surprised that I don’t need him anymore to get on the bus. He better not try anything or I’ll report him. I’m legal now that I have a job in Myrtle Beach.”
Like a thief, Nathalyia quickly showed Theresa to the back door, looking over her shoulder. “Be here tomorrow at ten.”
“I will. You can count on me,” Theresa said with a wide grin. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she went happily down the back steps.
Nathalyia watched until her sister rounded the corner of the restaurant, then she closed the door. The hardest part was yet to come, talking with Jake and Clarice. Neither of them would understand her decision. She didn’t herself.
Theresa was trouble, always had been, always would be, but Nathalyia hadn’t been able to reconcile the guilt that she felt for her mother’s passing and not being there. Or the strong feeling that she might have been able to add to her mother’s quality of life with proper food and care.
Perhaps Theresa really wanted a chance. Nathalyia couldn’t live with herself if she turned her back on her.
Closing the back door, Nathalyia went to the bar. “Jake, please come with me to my office, and bring Clarice with you.”
He stared at her and then nodded. Nathalyia returned to her office, feeling tense and on edge. She had just picked up the phone to call Rafael when a knock came at her door. She replaced the receiver. “Come in.”
Jake held the door open for Clarice to enter first. Both looked worried. “Are you all right?”
Before coming to Myrtle Beach there were only a few people who took an interest in her. Now, with her long, hectic schedule, she had associates but not a lot of friends. The closest to real friends she had were standing in front of her. She idly wondered if they’d still want to be her friend if they knew what kind of family she came from.
“I’m fine, thank you.” Feeling her hands wanting to fidget, she folded them together on the desk. “Was anyone else involved with the incident?”
“Just us,” Jake answered, after sharing a look with Clarice.
“I know you must have a lot of questions, but I’d appreciate it if you’d just trust me on this.”
“You let her go without calling the police,” Clarice said.
“Yes, Theresa and I went to high school together.” Nathalyia told the lie, realizing they’d forgotten to think of a last name.
Jake frowned. “She looks much older.”
“Hard living and drinking,” Clarice said. “She put away three Fontaine special drinks like they were water.”
Nathalyia didn’t doubt it. Theresa and Paula had been drinking since their early teens. They had begun stealing alcohol from their mother, who was a hard drinker and couldn’t remember how much she had left in a bottle.
“She needs a job,” Nathalyia said.
“You aren’t going to say you hired that—”
“Clarice, be quiet,” Jake said, staring at Nathalyia.
Clarice opened her mouth, no doubt to let Jake have it, then clamped her lips together.
“She starts tomorrow. I want you to train her,” Nathalyia told them.
“And keep an eye on her,” Jake guessed.
“Yes.” Next to Rafael, Jake seemed to understand her better than anyone. “She starts tomorrow at ten. It would be best for all concerned if what happened today was forgotten.”
“Whatever you say, boss,” Jake said.
Clarice stared at her a long time. “I know you’re the boss, but I have a bad feeling about this woman.”
So did Nathalyia. Theresa had always been trouble. Nathalyia was taking a chance that Theresa really wanted a better life.
Jake grabbed Clarice’s arm. “You can count on us. We had better get back. The lunch crowd is busy today.”
“Thank you,” Nathalyia said to him, aware that she might have his support, but not Clarice’s.
The door closed, and all Nathalyia wanted to do was lay her head on her desk and bawl. Life was wonderful, and Theresa’s sudden appearance could destroy everything.
Rafael was in a good mood, which wasn’t unusual, but this time it was traceable to a woman. Nathalyia made him happy, and that shot holes in Helen’s theory. He planned to tease her about it when they talked again.
“Dunlap is wearing that goofy smile again,” Cannon announced to the office staff.
“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Hayes agreed.
Rafael ignored them and went back to checking background information for prospective employees on his computer.
“How long has it been?”
“Six weeks. Two weeks longer than usual,” Cannon pointed out.
Since Rafael didn’t talk about his dates or bring them around his friends or family, he wasn’t sure how anyone on his team could possibly know his dating time schedule, but somehow they did. A month was long enough for the woman not to feel used, and enough time for her to realize it wasn’t working.
“I’d ask
what’s so special about Nathalyia, but since I’ve seen her, I understand.”
Rafael frowned. He didn’t like them discussing her. His cell phone rang. “Lieutenant Dunlap.”
“Rafael.”
“Nathalyia, what’s the matter?” he asked, getting up from the computer and moving to a quiet corner of the room. She sounded strange.
“Nothing. I just . . . never mind,” she said.
He glanced at his watch. “I can take my lunch break and be there in twenty minutes.”
“Just knowing you’d come if I needed you is enough.”
“You feel all right?”
She laughed, but it sounded off. “I’m fine. I guess I’d rather be with you than in the office.”
“I feel the same way. And I can still be there in twenty.”
“I’m fine. You’re still coming for an early dinner at the restaurant?”
“Not sure. We’re on standby for assistance with felony warrants.”
“Aren’t those dangerous?”
“There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll call later and let you know.”
“All right, but I’ll bring something home with me if you can’t stop by the restaurant.”
“You’re all I want,” he whispered.
“If you were here, I’d kiss you.”
“And I’d return the favor.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.” He hung up and turned to see his team, arms folded, watching him. They were far enough away to have given him privacy for his conversation, but he didn’t like the way they were all staring at him.
“Don’t you have something better to do?” he asked them.
“Watching you fall in love is more interesting.”
He was taken aback by Cannon’s statement, then attributed it to her being a woman and a newlywed. His thoughts strayed to Helen. Women always tried to put love into everything. “That doesn’t deserve a comment.”
“I don’t know, Dunlap,” Diaz said, his face etched with concern. “You’re my idol when it comes to women, but I think your wings might have been clipped.”
The serious faces of his team stared back at him. “Nonsense.”
“Are you bringing her to the card party at my place next week?” Barron asked. “Wanda is cooking.”