Envy

by Victoria Christopher Murray

  First last night and now today. Gabrielle didn’t have to send me any more clues—she didn’t see me working by her side; she saw me as her assistant.

  Inside the elevator, I had to blink back real tears. So if I was nothing to her, then what had been the purpose of the test? Why in the world did she have me take it if she had no plans of ever claiming me? Had this week just been about humiliating me? So much for thinking that God was restoring anything.

  My head was down when the elevator doors parted; I stepped out and bumped right into someone.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, trying to sniff back my tears.

  “Keisha?”

  Looking up, once again, I stared into the eyes of Mauricio. And just like two days ago at his home, he questioned me. “What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head, and then he held my elbow and led me away from the view of others. Standing against the wall, he asked me again what was going on.

  I said, “Nothing. I was just . . .” I paused and measured my words. “I have to get Starbucks for Justus and—”

  “Oh,” Mauricio said, as if those few words explained everything. “Justus is here?”

  The disdain in his voice was like a tissue that wiped my tears away. Now my curiosity trumped my being pissed.

  He said with a sigh, “If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have dropped by to surprise Gabby.” Then, “So they sent you to get his coffee?” Before I answered, he shook his head. “Listen, don’t let that guy get to you. He’s an ass.” Right after he said that, he pressed his lips together, almost as if he wanted to say more, but couldn’t. “Forget I said that. He and I have never gotten along, but . . .” He stopped again. “Look, do you need any help getting the coffee?”

  I shook my head. “No, they have coffee up there. He’s the only one who wanted something special, so I can carry up one cup.”

  “Well”—he glanced at his watch—“so much for my surprise. I’ll head back to the school. You good?”

  I nodded.

  He put his hand on my shoulder. “Just ignore Justus, okay?”

  Then he strolled away. As he moved toward the parking garage elevators, I headed to the other side of the lobby to the Starbucks.

  I’d come down in the elevator so sad, but now I had a clear understanding. Gabrielle wasn’t going to share her life with me, so that just meant that I had to do what I had to do—I had to take what I wanted. If I wanted this life, I had to grab it.

  I didn’t know everything that I was going to do, but Mauricio had just given me some information and ammunition. And I was going to use it.

  I stepped up to the counter, gave the barista Justus’s order, and then passed him Gabrielle’s credit card. When he gave me the card back, I looked down at the numbers.

  I stepped to the side and, as I waited for Justus’s drink, I pressed Buck’s number on my new cell phone. By the time he answered, I had all the numbers on Gabrielle’s credit card memorized.

  “Yo, boo, what’s up?”

  “Remember that plan I thought I had?”

  “You thought you had?”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t have it anymore. We’re back to your plan and I have a credit card for you.”

  “That’s my boo. Okay, what you got?”

  I gave him the number and I didn’t even ask Buck what he and Que were gonna do. I’d just let them do their thing and then I was gonna figure out how to do mine.

  24

  Gabrielle

  Standing in front of Keisha’s bedroom door, I heard her voice, though muffled, and wondered who she was talking to.

  I tapped on the door and waited for her to invite me in. When she paused for a moment, but then kept talking, I tapped again, this time with a bit of a heavier hand . . . and I didn’t wait for Keisha’s invitation, which felt like it wasn’t going to come. I pushed open the door and peeked inside.

  Keisha was kicked back on her bed, one leg crossed over the other. She raised her head from the pillow. “Hold up,” she said into her cell. Then to me, she said, “Yeah,” without any kind of smile, without any kind of warmth.

  I stepped inside the room and glanced at the television that was on mute. Keisha had the TV tuned to one of those reality shows about housewives; it was the kind of television that made me cringe. Facing her, I said, “I just dropped Bella off to the birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese.”

  Even when I mentioned Bella’s name, Keisha’s face stayed void of any emotion.

  “So,” I continued, “I was thinking you and I could do something. I mean, since this is your first Saturday here and it’s kinda warm outside.”

  She rolled over now and looked at me as if she was suddenly interested.

  I said, “I was gonna call Regan and maybe we could all go out to lunch. I know you like the beach, and there are lots of restaurants on the beach.”

  She only blinked.

  “Or we could go walk on the beach. And talk.”

  “Nah, that’s okay. I’m not hungry, and I don’t feel like exercising.” And then, she kicked back once again and returned the phone to her ear as if I weren’t there. I was being dismissed, I supposed.

  I obliged and stepped from the room. But I stood there staring at the closed door, trying to figure out what had happened. What happened to the relationship that was blossoming between us?

  As I moved toward the staircase, my mind scrolled through the past days. The DNA results on Wednesday, everything had been better than fine. And then . . . then what? Yes, she’d been a bit subdued when we’d gone shopping, but I thought that was because she was concerned about how much money I was spending. She’d kept looking at the price tags and I’d kept assuring her that money wasn’t an issue. But really, her attitude had changed since then. From Wednesday night.

  I sauntered to the patio door, opened it, then only closed the screen behind me. Mauricio glanced up from the newspaper (yes, an actual newspaper) that he was reading. He looked nothing like a college professor today. No sports jacket, no bow tie. Just a T-shirt and sweats. Really, he could have passed for one of his students.

  “What’s up?” he said. “Bella’s settled in at the party?”

  I nodded, then slumped into the patio chair across from him. “Yeah.”

  He grinned. “Don’t tell me you have Mommy separation syndrome.”

  “No, not Mommy.” I shifted the chair so that I faced him. “Mauricio, have you noticed anything about Keisha?”

  He frowned a little, then shook his head. “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. She’s been . . . a bit cold, and I can’t figure it out.”

  “Oh.” He leaned back. “Well, I know she was upset on Thursday.”

  I tilted my head in question.

  He said, “I came by the office to surprise you and bumped into her coming off the elevator. She was upset. About getting coffee for Justus.”

  I paused trying to understand. “Why would she be upset about that?”

  “Oh . . . I don’t know,” he sang. “Maybe because she never expected to be the coffee girl?”

  “She’s not a coffee girl; she’s my assistant. That means helping me with everything. I would’ve gone and gotten his coffee myself if the meeting hadn’t been starting.”

  Lowering his head, Mauricio mumbled, “I’m sure you would have.”

  I crossed my arms. “What does that mean?”

  He held up his hands. “Look, these conversations never end well. I don’t want to fight about Justus.”

  “Just say what you were going to say.” The edge in my tone was sharper than intended, but Mauricio was right. Conversations about Justus were the bane of our marriage; his offense was always sharp and my defense always had a bit of a bite.

  “All right.” He closed the newspaper. “I meant that when it comes to Justus, he’s the only one who matters.” Before I could call him a liar, Mauricio continued, “You drop everything for him.”

  “He’s our firm’s biggest client.”

  “He’s
also your ex.”

  Leaning back and away from him, I said, “Really, Mauricio. Are you going to bring up the fact that I dated him . . . in high school . . . every time we talk about Justus?”

  He shrugged. “I’m talking about someone you considered marrying . . .”

  “Not seriously.”

  “And then you started your business because of him.”

  “You say that all the time as if you never knew my plan was always to have my own company. That’s why I got my MBA, and if I hadn’t gotten my MBA, I would never have met you.”

  He shrugged again.

  I squinted. “This cannot still be about him giving Regan and me the money to start Media Connections.”

  “Correction: he gave you the money.”

  “Correction: Regan and I own that firm together.”

  He held up his hand. “See what I mean? We will never agree. But I can tell you this—as long as he doesn’t respect me as your husband, he gets no love from me.”

  I pouted.

  “But going back to how this conversation started—think about what you asked Keisha to do when he came to your office.”

  I shook my head. “It can’t be that. Pamela and Mattie have been sent to get him dozens of cups of coffee.”

  “And neither one of them is your sister.”

  “She’s not my sister in the office.” I paused and tightened my arms across my chest. “And when did you become such a Keisha fan? Just last Sunday you were insisting that she have the DNA test.”

  “I was never against your sister. I wanted the test; the results are in, and now she’s family. Family who wants to fit in, Gabrielle. And you sending her out for coffee won’t help her to feel that way. For God’s sake, I found her the other day in your closet, trying on your clothes.”

  “What?” I frowned.

  “Don’t make a big deal about it.” He pushed his hands down as if he were trying to lower the temperature of the discussion. “Really, it was nothing and I hadn’t even planned to mention it. But she was trying on one of your dresses, imagining, I’m sure, that she was like her big sister. And she probably didn’t feel anything like her big sister the other day with Justus.”

  “I gave her a job because she’s family, because she’s my little sister.”

  “You gave her a job to carry Justus’s coffee.”

  I glared at him and he stared right back at me. If I’d been ten years younger, I would have told Mauricio that he made me sick. If I’d been fifteen years younger, I would have stuck my tongue out. And if I’d been Bella’s age, I would’ve told him he made me sick, stuck my tongue out, and told him to kick rocks. But since none of those acts were appropriate for a thirty-two-year-old woman, I just glared at him a little longer, said a couple of good curse words in my head, then pushed myself up from the chair and stomped away.

  I snatched the screen door back, stepped inside, and almost bumped right into Keisha.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “I was just coming to look for you.”

  I paused and wondered how long she’d been standing there. “That’s all right.” I thought about what Mauricio had just told me and I wondered if Keisha and I needed to talk about this—the clothes in my closet and the coffee.

  But before I could say anything, she said, “I’m sorry” again.

  “About what?”

  “I’ve been mad at you.”

  I gestured with my head and led her into the kitchen. She sat at the counter and I stood across from her. I said, “I can tell you’ve been upset, but why?”

  She sighed. “This is going to sound silly.”

  “Nothing you say will sound silly to me. Remember, I’m your sister.” Then, after a pause, I added, “Silly.”

  That made her smile. Still, it took her a moment to say, “I wanted to meet Justus.”

  I paused for a moment because this wasn’t about clothes; this wasn’t about coffee. Mauricio thought he knew everything, but I couldn’t even be mad at him because clearly, I didn’t know anything. I pressed the heel of my hand against my forehead, feeling like the biggest dummy around. What twenty-two-year-old didn’t want to meet Justus? Especially a twenty-two-year-old who was my sister. “Ugh. I’m the silly one.”

  “No, you’re not. It’s just that he’s my favorite, and I thought I’d get a chance to at least meet him.”

  “You’re right. I should’ve introduced you. It’s just that sometimes when I get into that space, I get into business mode—”

  “I noticed.”

  “And I don’t think beyond that. I’m sorry, Keisha. And the next time he comes in, I’ll introduce you.” Her smile was so wide it brightened the kitchen. “So all is forgiven?”

  Then Keisha did something she’d never done before. She slipped down from the chair, walked to the other side of the counter, and hugged me. It was the first time she’d ever done that, and I squeezed her tight.

  Stepping back, I said, “I’m glad you came to me.”

  “I’m glad, too.”

  “So, do you want to go out and do something?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go walk on the beach.”

  “Perfect.”

  As we trotted up the stairs to get our phones and purses, I told her I’d meet her back downstairs in ten. Before she stepped into her bedroom, I asked, “Who were you talking to earlier?” I didn’t ask to be nosy. It was just that I wanted to know everything about Keisha.

  But that darkening thing happened again. It was something that came all over her and made me step back a little. She did answer me, though. She said, “Nobody, really.”

  And then she walked into her room and closed the door.

  25

  Keisha

  I peeked into the hallway and heard Gabrielle having her normal morning debate with Bella. So I shut my door as softly as I could and tiptoed into my bathroom. I was dressed and ready to go, but the bathroom gave me cover to make this call. I hadn’t been discreet when I talked to Buck on Saturday; I didn’t even care when Gabrielle had barged into my room.

  But once she asked me who I’d been talking to, I decided I did need to be careful if I was going to make this work.

  Closing the bathroom door with one hand, I tapped Buck’s name on the screen with the other, and he answered so fast, I wasn’t sure if his phone actually rang.

  “Yo, boo, what’s good?”

  “Where you at?” I asked. “Work?”

  “Nah, I quit.”

  “What?” I pushed down the toilet seat and sat. “Why?”

  “ ’Cause why I gotta work for the white man when I have this plan with you?”

  Every time I talked to Buck I felt more confident that we could pull this off, but I wasn’t sure that he should’ve quit his job even if he did have this whole plan.

  When I’d told him how Gabrielle had promised to have me working by her side, then how she’d flipped on me and now I was nothing but an assistant—the same title I’d had with Beryl, Buck had gone off.

  “Why she think she can treat you like that?”

  I’d calmed down because I had to keep him calm. And once he settled down, he told me not to worry about getting mad.

  “If she don’t want to share, boo, just take what should be yours.”

  That was exactly how I felt. Why shouldn’t I have everything that Gabrielle had? The thing was, I didn’t have a plan—but Buck did.

  “Take her down at home, take her down at work, blow up her world. And when she steps out, you’ll step right in. How hard could it be to do her job anyway?”

  When Buck had first said this, it sounded good, but I didn’t know how I could make it all happen. But then, I thought about it, and slept on it, and thought about it. And it became so clear. I could take her down at work—that would be easy enough . . . as her assistant. And at home—there was this thing with Mauricio and Justus that I could figure out. There had to be a way to cause so much confusion and chaos that she’d be out at work, out at home, and I�
��d be the one to have it all after that.

  “So what I’m gonna get outta this?”

  When Buck had asked me that, I was all in with his credit card scam. Not for me, but for him. My plan was to get this life, but I would help him out, too.

  “All you gotta do is give me the numbers, I’ll do the rest.”

  “So, boo.” Buck’s shout through the cell brought me back to now. “Ain’t that right?” he repeated. “No need to be hustling for Mr. Walmart when I can be hustling for myself.”

  “I’m just not sure you should’ve quit Walmart. I don’t know how long the credit card scam is going to last. Once they see the fraudulent charges, they’re going to report them, and then you and Que won’t be able to use the card anymore.”

  “So? They got more than one card, don’t they?”

  “And you don’t think it’s gonna look weird that they have fraudulent charges on all of their cards?”

  “Look, you’re worrying about things that Que already got worked out. Trust me, have I ever let you down, boo?”

  I sighed, but the thing was, he never had.

  He said, “You made up with her, right?”

  “Yeah.” Buck had overheard the way I’d spoken to Gabrielle on Saturday, and he told me I’d needed to fix that. “She doesn’t have any idea what I’m planning to do.”

  “Good. ’Cause playas never let the other side know their moves,” he said as if he were schooling me.

  There was a quick knock on my bedroom door, and I stepped out of the bathroom.

  Gabrielle shouted, “Keisha, I’ll be ready to leave in about ten minutes.”

  “Okay,” I told her, and then I whispered into my cell, “I gotta go.”

  “Got ya. Stay strong, boo. I’m in your corner all the way, all the time. Call me if you need anything.”

  I clicked off the phone and held it close to my chest. There were times when Buck made my head throb, but there were other times when he did the same thing to my heart.

  Moving to the bed, I grabbed my Coach bag and stuffed my cell phone inside. Then I sat down and thought about Buck. For so long, he’d been trying to take care of me. Buck and my mama. Just the two of them. And Buck had been there for me at a time when Mama couldn’t even be.