by Shara Lanel
He didn’t understand why being near Kerry kept bringing up his mother’s memory. Lydia physically looked the most like his mother, graceful and classic, and she seemed more self-reliant with a career and a focus. Kerry was as lost as he often felt. Maybe that’s why dharma, which Rick thought of as “natural harmony” or “divine law,” had brought them together—to help each other find their way. That didn’t mean that they were destined to be together, only that for the moment they were meant to teach each other a lesson about life.
Rick had just started to doze when Kerry stirred and sat up. She looked at the clock, then hurried to the bathroom. Rick kept his lids lowered as he watched her apply make-up. She brushed the colors across her face expertly and looked like a very different person when finished. She came into the bedroom once more and looked in her duffel. “Shit.”
Rick sat up. “What’s the matter?”
“I just remembered that she said I have to buy my own uniform, but I don’t know if she meant up front or if it would come out of my first paycheck.”
Rick opened the drawer of his nightstand and took out two twenties from a small stash he kept to save him ATM runs. “Here. That should cover it.”
“Unless it’s gold-plated.” Kerry tucked the money into the pocket of her denim skirt. “I’ll give this back to you tonight if she says it will come out of my paycheck. Thanks, Rick.”
She leaned over and kissed his cheek, then glanced at the clock again, but Rick wasn’t about to let her go with just a peck. He wrapped his fingers around her shoulders and pulled her to him. He kissed her lips softly, slowly, but that didn’t satisfy either, so he rolled her onto her back and settled on top of her, spreading her legs with his knee and her lips with his tongue. There he lingered, encased in warmth, until Kerry began to struggle. He eased off of her.
She smacked his shoulder and laughed. “I have to go. I want to get there early to make a good impression.”
He grinned. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Once more she put a finger to her lip and spoke, more to herself than Rick. “Social security card. How long can I get away without one? I can’t even show her my driver’s license.” She shrugged. “I’ve got nothing to lose right now and can worry about the rest later.” With that, she dashed out of the room and down the stairs. A few seconds later, Rick heard the front door open and shut. He closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.
Sometime later, Rick jerked awake to the ringing of the phone. Lifting the receiver, he said, “Hello?” in a groggy voice.
“Did you find her?”
“Yes, cousin.” What was it with Evan lately?
“Is she there with you?”
Rick looked at the phone with an eyebrow raised. “No.”
“You left her on the street? Is that where you found her?”
“I found her at the library actually, but she is staying here again if that’s what you’re asking.”
Evan’s breath sounded like a sigh over the phone line. “Good.”
“Why the sudden change of heart, cousin? Seems like you spent all yesterday trying to convince me to leave her lost.”
A pause. “Well, she seems important to you, so…”
Rick shook his head. “Anyway, thanks for all your help looking last night. Did you catch any sleep today?”
“Yeah, that old couch is surprisingly comfortable. So, is she okay?”
“Yeah, she’s fine. She’s starting her new job tonight.”
“Really? Where at?”
Suddenly Rick had an extremely foreign feeling of suspicion. He tried to shake it off, but he remembered that ad Kerry had mentioned. She’d said that it offered a substantial reward. He knew little about Evan’s finances, but sometimes got the impression that there was a problem with his company. “Just some restaurant. I’m not sure which, and she wasn’t even sure how long she’d be working tonight.”
“Oh, I see. Well, Cuz, I’d better go. Lots to do.”
Rick stared at the phone after hearing Evan click off. If Evan or Lydia saw the ad, Kerry’s new look would be unlikely to make a difference. Rick couldn’t imagine either intentionally causing someone harm, but then he wasn’t always the best judge of character, was he?
* * * *
Kerry entered the restaurant just as the dinner hour was beginning. Half a dozen folks stood at the hostess stand waiting to be seated. A short line had formed by the cash register, behind which Rebecca Tucker smiled and chatted as she quickly rung up the checks and either took money or swiped credit cards. She spotted Kerry when she came in the door and smiled. Kerry moved out of the walkway and waited until Rebecca could take the time to get her started. A young-looking hostess greeted the next batch of customers and led them to a table.
“Kerry,” Rebecca said after waving off the last customer at the cash register. “I’m so glad you’re here. I may have to throw you into the mix on your own sooner than I’d like, because Janet called in sick just half an hour ago. She’s the woman I’d planned to have you follow around for the evening, now I’ll have to do it myself. I’m hoping you catch on quick and can work a couple tables on your own tonight.” As she talked, she led Kerry past several booths and through swinging doors into the kitchen.
“I’ll do my best,” Kerry said, noting the structured chaos around her. Dishes clanged, burgers and fried chicken sizzled, some sort of soup simmered in a metal tureen on the counter behind her. The floor was somewhat slick from a recent spill, the soda machine was sticky, and the small hall was crammed with wait staff moving to and fro.
“I seated a family at ten,” the young hostess shouted from the doorway before disappearing again.
“That’s us. I’ve given a couple of Janet’s tables to others, but we’ve still got ten through thirteen. Let’s get their order then we’ll find you a uniform. That comes out of your first paycheck unfortunately.” Rebecca grabbed a pad and pencil from a rack by the computer. She thrust it into Kerry’s hands, then barreled out the doors. “There’s a bunch of abbreviations for you to learn. I’ll give you a list tonight before you leave. For now, just write the orders out legibly so the cooks can translate.”
Apparently, tables ten through thirteen were the large round tables at the back of the restaurant. Each seated six comfortably. Table ten held a mother, father and four children all under the age of ten.
“Good evening, folks,” Rebecca said with a smile, all signs of rush erased. “My name is Rebecca and I’ll be your server tonight. May I take your drink order, and perhaps an appetizer to get you started?”
The children all looked at Kerry curiously since she stood just behind Rebecca with a pencil poised over an order pad. Their mother rattled off a series of drinks, “Chocolate milk, lemonade, Diet Coke, orange juice. All with covers please. I’ll have ice tea unsweetened, no lemon. And Rob?” She looked to her husband, who requested a coffee with cream and sugar. Kerry wrote rapidly and hoped she could keep it all straight. Just as they were turning to go, the mother said, “But we’re ready to order our food as well. The sooner it gets here the better.” She nodded her head at the children with a wry smile. Then she rattled off five orders and Rob added his own.
As they walked away from the table, Rebecca checked what Kerry had written. “You’ve got it. I think you’re going to be great at this.”
Within half an hour, Rebecca left to man the cash register, mop a spill, answer the phone and retrieve something from the walk-in freezer. The sight of the freezer brought back unpleasant memories from Kerry’s brief stay in Roanoke, so she did her best to steer clear. Several of the employees seemed friendly but extremely busy. Kerry successfully managed a tray full of drinks, refilled coffee and water and took orders in turn from the other three tables. Her biggest mistake was to hand each of the four children the wrong order. The mother quickly rearranged the dishes before the whimpers turned into full-fledged cries.
Late in the evening, a large, boisterous group of teenagers came in. They took over tables twe
lve and thirteen. They changed their seats and their orders repeatedly until Kerry was ready to tell them to get their own food. Then they hassled her over how the burgers were cooked, that the fries were cold, and where was the coleslaw anyway, until Kerry’s nerves were frazzled. The last straw was when one of the boys, no older than seventeen, pinched Kerry’s butt. She glared at him, but bit her tongue. After that, she focused her attention on the other tables and left twelve and thirteen to their own devices, to hell with the tip. They weren’t likely to leave much anyway.
“You did a great job, Kerry,” Rebecca said around midnight when the last table had been wiped and the last ketchup bottle refilled. “And I like your new hair, by the way.”
“Thank you.” Kerry’s feet throbbed and she was exhausted, but she had money in her pocket and a full work schedule for the upcoming week. All in all, she was proud to be a contributing member of society again, instead of a homeless outcast.
Rebecca sat at a cluttered table in her small office, counting out money from the cash drawer. The table served as her desk as well as a break room table for the employees. In the corner, a small refrigerator whirred and along the wall by the door a rack held discarded uniforms and other odds and ends. Kerry sat on a hard metal chair longing for bed, but she knew Rebecca still wanted to give her the list of abbreviations and had some paperwork for her to fill out.
“Five hundred and forty-seven,” Rebecca said to herself as she tucked the bundled money into an envelope with a deposit slip then into a gray moneybag. Turning to Kerry, she said, “So, tell me about yourself. You mentioned staying with a friend. Is that near here?”
Kerry hoped her impression—that these questions were just friendly inquiries—was correct. “Yes, on Monument.”
“You said you went to UCLA?”
Had she? “Right.”
“What did you major in?”
“Communications. I had a few courses in broadcasting, a few in videography and film making.” She paused in thought. “But now I think I’m most interested in retail, perhaps advertising, like graphic design, or perhaps I could design the window and indoor displays at the large department stores.”
“Well, VCU has a very good art program. My daughter goes there now. The first year is devoted to the basics. I think Elise is finding it grueling, a lot of three-hour classes that begin at eight o’clock in the morning.” Rebecca started ruffling through papers in a file drawer. “I think the early classes have really put a damper on her night life, which to me is a good thing.” She winked at Kerry and sat several forms on the table in front of her.
Kerry peered down at the top form in apprehension. It was the social security verification. “That’s great about your daughter. I didn’t realize VCU’s art program was so renowned. Sounds like I’m in the right town.” Again she looked down at the form.
“These are just your basic tax forms. I need to make a copy of your driver’s license and social security card. You know how to fill out the W-2 form, right? And below that is the page with the abbreviations. I don’t expect you’ll have them memorized by tomorrow, but at least take a look at them.”
“I will…” Kerry bit her fingernail, “…but I have a problem with the IDs.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, my wallet was recently stolen. In Monroe Park, actually. My social security card was in it as well as my driver’s license and credit cards.” She gestured to the form. “Anyway, I’ve called DMV and they’re supposed to mail me a form so I can request a new license. It might take a couple weeks to get this all straightened out.”
“What a mess. I had my car stolen once and it was a nightmare, so I understand what you’re going through. Well, go ahead and fill out the forms and we’ll just make the copies as soon as we can.”
“Thanks.” Kerry filled out the forms using Rick’s address and changing her social security number by a couple of digits. She realized that if she was going to stay hidden yet still carry on with life she would need to find a way to get new identification. Perhaps she could do some research on the Internet to find a solution.
Once the forms were filled out, Rebecca walked Kerry to the front door, turning out lights as she went. Kerry stepped out into the muggy night air and waited as Rebecca locked the door.
“Thank you so much for everything,” Kerry said.
Rebecca looked around the lot. Only one car remained, a silver Honda, sitting directly under a streetlamp. “You walked? Do you want a lift home? It’s pretty late to be out alone.”
“That would be great. It’s not too far.”
The seats inside the Honda were cluttered and coffee-stained. Rebecca quickly threw some papers into the back seat so Kerry could sit down, then she turned the key and switched the a/c to high. Kerry directed her to Rick’s and again thanked her. After she got out of the car and started up Rick’s front porch stoop, she realized Rebecca was waiting to see that she got safely inside. She hoped the door was still unlocked so she wouldn’t have to knock. Wouldn’t Rebecca think it odd that she didn’t have a key? As she turned the knob, she heard a burst of laughter from inside the house. Evan was here.
CHAPTER NINE
Shit, the door was locked. Kerry felt her cheeks burn as she knocked. Rick opened the door and she rushed inside giving a little wave over her shoulder to Rebecca, who then drove away.
“Sorry,” Kerry mumbled, turning to see that Lydia was also present.
Rick squeezed her shoulder. “What for?”
“Interrupting.”
Rick gave her a quizzical look. “You’re not interrupting. Remind me tomorrow to give you a key.”
Kerry met Rick’s eyes. He was smiling. Why did it so often seem that he knew just what she was thinking? Of course, at that moment, Lydia’s tinkling laugh filtered into her consciousness, and Kerry’s thoughts turned to what it would be like to dump beer over her perfectly coifed hair. Instead, she smiled politely and said hello.
“Kerry, there you are!” Why did Evan suddenly sound like he gave a damn? “Rick said you got a job. Where at?”
Evan had asked the question almost eagerly and Kerry thought she saw an odd expression in his eyes. Rick also seemed surprised by Evan’s question. “Let her catch her breath and get something to drink before you interrogate her.” Rick turned to Kerry. “You’ve probably been on your feet all night, haven’t you?”
“Yes, actually.” Lydia was also looking at Kerry oddly tonight. She felt like she’d turned into ET or something. “Does anyone need a refill?”
“I’ll help you,” Lydia said, hopping from the sofa and grabbing Kerry’s arm. Kerry resisted the urge to ask, “Why?” in a very sarcastic voice. She reminded herself that it was just a bit of jealousy coloring her opinion of Lydia, since she’d been nothing but nice to Kerry from the beginning.
Upon opening the fridge, Kerry opted for a beer hoping to numb the ache in her feet as well as calm her jumpiness. She turned and found Lydia in her face.
“Kerry, I want you to know all you need do is ask. I want to help you.”
Kerry gasped. Had Rick told her about her past?
“I’m sorry. Evan told me about your car and why you’re here at Rick’s. Rick is such a kind man, isn’t he? Willing to take you in off the street. I don’t want to embarrass you, but I couldn’t help but offer assistance, money for a hotel or to get your car back? What do you need? I love your hair, by the way. The red highlights really enhance your skin tone.”
Kerry backed to the counter and twisted open the beer. Then she chugged half the bottle to keep from screaming. Just what she needed, this woman’s pity and smugness, not to mention her attempt to get her out of Rick’s house.
“Thanks for your compliment and thank you for your offer, but I think I’m fine here. As Evan mentioned, I have a job now so I’ll be able to get my car back in no time. I certainly don’t want to burden anyone else.” Really Kerry wanted to use stronger terms to tell the bitch she certainly didn’t need her pity or condescension
and that she had better stay away from Rick. But, of course, she had no claim on Rick and no right to insult his friends. She only wished she knew how he felt about Lydia. Did he plan to pursue her despite what had happened between Kerry and him? Was it only sex to him? Kerry told herself that that’s all it was to her as well, but she knew that was a lie. She liked Rick, she liked him more every moment, and sometimes she felt a connection, like he truly understood her, and that was a very nice feeling indeed.
“Well, if you’re sure.” Did Lydia look a bit hurt? “I just wanted you to know I’m here for you, even if you just need someone to talk to.”
That would never happen, Kerry thought. She downed the rest of her beer and grabbed another as Lydia left the room. How long until they went home? She wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with Rick by her side as they’d been that afternoon. She could always desert and go to bed, but she admitted to herself that she didn’t want to leave Rick and the harpy together without her interference.
* * * *
Lydia leaned back against the damask fabric of the sofa and watched Evan flip channels, his body bent forward in concentration and the fabric of his jeans straining to hold his muscular thighs. It was an unconscious thing. No matter what locale or what event, Lydia’s eyes always zeroed in on Evan. She’d missed him while in DC. He had visited once or twice at her family’s invitation, but he’d acted cold as if her move erased their past. Then her career had taken off. Lydia had immersed herself in litigation and kowtowing and before long she’d met a handsome defense attorney who took her mind off Evan for a while.